


Netflix and Chill but we're Best Friends and you Fell Asleep

by EnglishPlant



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bending, M/M, Pining, They're adults, sort of post-cannon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24497041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglishPlant/pseuds/EnglishPlant
Summary: Sokka and Zuko enjoy watching movies together. What's the point of being best friends if you don't watch terrible films and talk shit about them the whole time? Falling asleep during the middle of one hadn't been Zuko's plan, and he's probably going to regret it later (it's Zuko, he'll regret it). As they dance around each other, each is forced to confront more than just their hidden emotions.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), zukka
Comments: 161
Kudos: 1244





	1. Terrible Movies

**Author's Note:**

> So I watched ATLA in its entirety because N*tflix put it up, and my heart is soft for these two. Just a drabble, might add more later? The pining is real.
> 
> Edit: 06/15 
> 
> If you're just looking for some general fluff and pining chapters 1 and 2 are the complete fell-asleep-watching-a-movie-scenario.  
> 3 through 5 gets more into the 'we're-still-not-quite-over-what-happened-I-kinda-like-you' stuff + a subplot i'm working on. I'm trying to update as regularly as I can, but in the event I have to shelve this for awhile, I'm doing my best to make sure each chapter ends on a solid note.

Years ago the back living room had been storage for the fledgling Jasmine Dragon. It still occasionally held shipments of new placemats or seasonal teas Uncle Iroh would rotate in and out of the store, but the overstuffed furniture and rickety television set ensured this room remained a living room and not an addition to the tea shop storage. 

It took Zuko many years to appreciate the tea his uncle made, but far less to appreciate the smell though he wouldn’t readily admit to either. Gentle jasmine, soft oolong and bitter black were all scents he associated with his uncle, and each time he stepped into the house he considered to be his first home, he could feel a bit of the weight on his shoulders lift. It was part of the reason he always agreed to house sit for Uncle Iroh whenever he wanted to travel to visit old friends or find new teas -- which he had been doing with increasing regularity now that the teashop was well-established, and Zuko was comfortable running it. 

“Popcorn is served,” Sokka emerged from the kitchen carrying the largest bowl in the house full to the brim with popcorn that appeared to have been saturated with butter, judging by the smell. 

“I could have done that in three seconds,” Zuko teased, moving some baubles on the coffee table so Sokka could set the bowl down. 

“What, and have to eat charred popcorn?” Sokka sat next to Zuko on the couch, popping a few pieces of buttery goodness into his mouth and grinning at the rather bemused firebender. 

“I can cook.” Zuko scrolled through their list of ‘to-watch’ movies. 

“Now you can, rich kid.” 

“Uncle taught me-” 

“Zuko, chill,” Sokka gently reminded Zuko he didn’t have to prove himself to him, though the discovery that at age sixteen Zuko had little idea of how to cook anything beyond a grilled cheese was still hilarious to Sokka. 

Zuko rolled his eyes, and asked if Sokka wanted to watch anything in particular. After some back and forth on what constituted as a comedy, they decided on a title. The popcorn bowl started out on the table, but ended up on Sokka’s lap as the movie started. They were close enough on the small sofa - Uncle Iroh had yet to buy a piece of modern furniture - that Zuko had little trouble helping himself to popcorn. 

He leaned back and focused on the movie. After many movie nights they had eventually come to the agreement they would watch something first to figure out what was going on, and then they’d tear it to shreds. However, if the media was truly stupid, shit-talking was fair game from the start. As most of what Sokka picked inevitably turned out to be something they could make fun of - it wasn’t long before Zuko was laughing at Sokka’s stream of commentary. 

After one particularly terrible joke - “c’mon dude, she has like, the personality of a houseplant” - Zuko turned his head to hide his laughter. It was then he noticed that sometime during Sokka sitting down and the movie starting, he had rested his arm on the back of the couch. Bent at the elbow, hand hanging, it was almost as if Sokka had put his arm around Zuko.

Zuko felt heat rise in his cheeks. That was new. He tried to refocus on the movie, but he couldn’t help but glance over at Sokka. 

“Okay, it’s not the actress’ fault, but at this point, why even include her? He’s so obviously into his best friend.” Sokka’s free hand gestured wildly at the tv. 

“Careful,” Zuko reached over and steadied the popcorn bowl. 

“I am careful,” Sokka grumbled, but he adjusted the way he was sitting so the bowl was nestled between his legs instead of setting on top. 

Zuko hid a smile. 

Sokka quieted down. 

Normally he had no problem staying awake during movies, but he didn’t realize how much he relied on Sokka’s stream of commentary as he felt himself zoning out over the trivial plot. Zuko blamed the poor writing as he felt himself drifting. He’d just close his eyes for a minute. 

Sokka hadn’t realized Zuko had fallen asleep until he felt Zuko’s head fall on his shoulder. He hummed a question, looking over as he felt the sudden weight. When he got no response he shifted a bit, leaning forward to get a look at Zuko’s face. His jaw dropped when he realized Zuko had, in fact, fallen asleep. Sokka stared. 

He was tempted to wake Zuko, make a joke about how ‘rising with the sun’ meant falling asleep at Gran-Gran time, but something about the serene expression on Zuko’s face made the words die in his throat before they made it to his mouth. 

Zuko’s lips parted slightly. Sokka felt his mouth go dry as he stared at his best friend’s mouth. His stomach twisted a bit; He tore his eyes away, and noticed dark strands of hair fell across Zuko’s pale eyelids, and Sokka was unable to resist the urge to sweep Zuko’s bangs back and tuck them behind an ear. His fingers ghosted across the rough skin that made up Zuko’s scar. Sokka held his breath, hoping Zuko wouldn’t wake - he hadn’t meant to touch him, and he took his treacherous hand back. 

Zuko stirred - Sokka felt his heart in his throat - and let out a soft sigh, head turning more into Sokka’s shoulder. Seconds felt like minutes as Sokka watched him. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around Zuko’s shoulders. The other man was warm to the touch. 

Sokka didn’t really finish the movie. Sure it continued to play in the background, but he only had eyes for a certain sleepy firebender.


	2. You used me like a blanket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Sokka wake up after accidentally falling asleep together on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I couldn't help myself and wrote another chapter. We'll see if I have the energy for another one. Until then, enjoy!

Zuko woke slowly, a soft sigh left him as he stretched out an arm, working the sleepy kink from it. Sunlight bathed his right side in a warm semblance of a blanket. He could hear the small family of birds nesting on the porch as they chirped insistently. Idly, he reprimanded himself for not replacing the seed in the feeder when uncle told him to. It went on his mental checklist of things to do for the day. 

It took him a few moments as the sleep-fog faded to realize something wasn’t right. First, the bird’s nest was on the back porch, and his room was on the front of the house, so he shouldn’t be able to hear the baby birds. The fact he fell asleep in the living room soon took second place to the fact he was laying on top of Sokka. 

“Oh.” A soft gasp left him and he struggled to find purchase on the sofa that wasn’t a place on Sokka’s torso. His hands ended up on the back and arm of the sofa. Zuko’s back arched awkwardly as he tried to push himself off of Sokka without waking the other man. Sokka made a sound and Zuko froze, staring down at the sleeping face of his best friend. Some hair had fallen from his wolf-tail in his sleep and it spilled across his cheek, a few strands falling in his open mouth. Even like this Zuko still found Sokka to be stupidly attractive, eyes tracing over wide cheekbones, down his nose, trailing over Sokka’s lips and ending at the facial hair a younger Sokka only dreamt of growing. It wasn’t fair that with his hair in disarray and smelling of morning breath Sokka could still look this good. 

Zuko realized he needed to move, and quickly, before Sokka woke up. He tried to map a path from his current position to the floor - maybe he could play this off like Sokka fell asleep on the couch after the movie and he didn’t want to wake him - when Sokka shivered in his sleep. He hooked an arm around Zuko and pulled him back down so their chests were flush. 

If Zuko could have combusted - which technically he could do, but not in a way that would incinerate him and not Sokka - he would have. Aside from the very large problem of laying on his best friend’s chest, Zuko’s arms now weren’t in the best position - one was sprawled past Sokka’s head, the other hand might as well be cupping Sokka’s cheek. 

Maybe he could just lay here and pretend to be asleep? ‘Then what’; a snide little voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Azula when she judged him piped up. He shook his head, stiffening as a few traitorous strands of his own hair fell across Sokka’s face. 

Zuko felt a blush claw its way from his cheeks and down his neck as Sokka’s bright blue eyes opened and blinked blearily. 

Too late to pretend he was sleeping. 

“Let go.” Curse upon Zuko’s ancestors for ever letting him be born. Ozai was right- 

Sokka hummed, seemingly unphased for a moment by Zuko’s demand, taking in the flush on Zuko’s pale cheeks and idly filing that image away for later. His eyes widened as the full force of what they were doing hit him and the arm that was effectively holding Zuko to him hurriedly moved. 

“That any way to talk to the guy you used as a pillow?” Sokka tried to play it cool. If he was being entirely honest, the first words out of Zuko’s mouth stung more than they should, considering Sokka knew how Zuko felt about touching in general, and this was a lot more than the occasional group-hug Sokka tried to drag Zuko into.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Zuko’s voice was more gravelly than usual, thick from disuse and slightly tense as he extracted himself from Sokka and stood. 

“Uh-” Sokka scrambled to sit up on the couch, looking up at Zuko. Truthfully, he was trying to piece together how they moved from sitting on the couch to laying down. In the brief moment of silence, his eyes were drawn to the long strands of hair that had fallen from Zuko’s topknot and lay across Zuko’s shoulders and fell down his chest. His eyes darted to Zuko’s, which was next on the list of Sokka’s growing mistakes as Zuko’s gaze seemed to pin him in place. 

“Well?”

“You’re really warm? No wait-” Sokka tried to backtrack as Zuko’s eyebrow drew in and he crossed his arms, “You fell asleep during the movie, and I didn’t want to wake you cuz you seemed so peaceful and I guess I must have passed out too.” 

Sokka held his breath. 

“You were using me like a blanket.” Zuko’s reproach didn’t seem entirely antagonistic, which gave Sokka hope. 

“You are really warm.” Sokka yawned, trying to figure out if it was Zuko’s body heat, or the weight of him sleeping he missed the most. Not that he should be missing anything, Sokka reminded himself. 

“You speak of this to no one,” Zuko said, turning on his heel and exiting the living room with what little dignity he had left. 

“Course….” Sokka watched him go, more confused than when he first woke up.


	3. Hot Leaf Juice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka asks Aang for some advice regarding Zuko.  
> Zuko is pretty good at running a tea shop.  
> Jet doesn't understand why Zuko won't flirt with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mild language  
> TW: suggestive themes. Jet gets up in Zuko's business, but nothing happens which is why I've kept the overall rating G. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!

“-And then I woke up and he was just staring at me, and I just can’t get the expression in his eyes out of my head.” Sokka stared into his cup of tea, elbows planted on the wooden table, fingers splayed. A faint breeze wafted in from the open front door. The curtains, carefully fastened, swayed slightly. 

“So what’re you gonna do about it?” Aang set his cup of tea down on the small saucer. Sokka had promised Zuko he’d keep them falling asleep together on the couch a secret, but after a few weeks of delicately skirting the subject, he couldn’t take it anymore and had to tell someone. Aang had now heard what happened in a few different variations, and wanted to help Sokka resolve this, which is why they were sitting in the Jasmine Dragon sharing a cup of tea while Zuko was working. 

“I dunno, he’s one of my closest friends. I just don’t wanna ruin anything.” Sokka’s eyes darted over to the counter where Zuko stood, carefully measuring the right amount of tea to put in a customer’s cup. 

“You’re still close with Suki,” Aang’s cheery tone was in direct opposition to the tension present in Sokka’s. 

Sokka groaned, “This is different.” 

Aang opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a familiar rough voice. 

“Can I get you two a refill? On the house, of course.” Zuko’s customer service had definitely improved over the years, but he seemed a little more relaxed at their table than the others he had been going around to. He stood a little off balance, leaning forward just the slightest bit, his hands hidden, presumably clasped, behind his back, a tentative smile on his lips. 

Sokka didn’t miss the change in posture. Something about that subtle shift made a warm feeling grow in his chest. Sokka sat up in his seat and looked up at Zuko. “I smelled scones-” 

Zuko’s smile grew a little wider as he set a small plate down with a blueberry scone in front of Sokka. Sokka stared at the pastry. He grinned, “You’re the bomb.” He grabbed it. 

“Uh- Zuko- did you bring one for me?” Aang piped up. He grinned, knowing full well Zuko had only brought one plate. 

“I can get you one-” Zuko floundered, inwardly cursing himself for not grabbing one for Aang. When he had removed the tray of scones from the oven he had thought only of Sokka. A faint blush dusted his cheeks, and he was grateful Sokka seemed more interested in eating than staring at him. 

“That’s okay Zuko; could I just get another cup of tea?” 

Zuko nodded. He turned, his hair fell long and straight down his back, half of it gathered into a ponytail to keep it out of his face while he worked. Sokka looked up from his scone to watch him go. With a devilish little smile, Aang cupped a hand around his lips and took in a deep breath. Letting it out in a controlled stream, the air fanned across Zuko’s shoulders, ruffling his hair and the ties of his apron. Sokka stared. 

Zuko turned and made a face at Aang who grinned. Zuko sighed and went back to the counter. Aang looked back at Sokka. 

“I’m doomed,” Sokka groaned. 

Aang laughed. 

Zuko busied himself checking on the tea for Aang. Evidently, one of the other workers had switched the pot off, as the light for the burner told him it had been off for some time. With a little frown he picked it up. Sucking in a deep breath, he slowly let it out, his hands grew hotter than the stove-top, but not enough to catch flame. Satisfied, he poured another cup for Aang; steam rose from the cup. The aroma was light and floral; Uncle would approve of the blend, not so much the re-heating method. 

“Hey, Lee,” Jet’s suave voice floated to him from across the counter. 

“That’s not my name.” Sure Zuko had named himself Lee in a fit of panic when he’d run away from home and Uncle Iroh agreed to hide him at the teashop, but only a very few loyal customers could call him that now. Jet was not one of them. 

“I’ll take a cup of black tea.” 

“Anything else?” Zuko turned to face him. 

“Sugar,” Jet leaned a forearm on the counter, a smirk playing at his lips. 

Zuko fought the urge to sigh. He managed to hide most of his disinterest, though his eye twitched. 

“Uh-oh,” Aang pointed surreptitiously at the counter. Sokka followed the direction of Aang’s gesture. His eyes narrowed a bit as he took in the familiar appearance of a certain shaggy-haired delinquent. He stood, telling Aang he’d be right back. 

“Could I get another scone?” Sokka leaned on the counter, shoulder pressing sharply against Jet’s. Zuko blinked, watching as Jet hip-bumped Sokka to claim more counter space. However, Sokka held his ground as Jet frowned. His bright blue eyes fixed on Zuko. Zuko felt his mouth run a bit dry, eyes drawn to the smile on Sokka’s lips. 

“Get in line, Sokka.” Jet’s voice broke the spell. 

“Aang’s tea.” Zuko robotically set the cup down. He moved to pour Jet’s, setting the cup and saucer in front of the other man, then turning to pull another scone for Sokka. Jet watched Zuko a moment, then looked over at Sokka, toothpick hanging off his bottom lip. He quirked an eyebrow. Sokka glowered. Jet smirked, he picked up his cup of tea and sauntered over to a free table. “Scone?” Zuko trailed off, holding the plate out to Sokka. 

Sokka took the plate, his fingers brushed Zuko’s. A faint blush dusted his cheeks. 

“Is Jet bothering you?” 

“Jet is.. Jet. I’m fine.” 

“I gotta go to work. Can I stop by after?” 

“I’ll leave the door open.” A wry smile played at Zuko’s lips. 

Sokka’s heart fluttered. 

The heat of the afternoon cooled off into a pleasant evening. A faint breeze carried delicious aromas from the kitchens of small restaurants nearby. Sokka inhaled deeply, smiling to himself as he strolled down the pavement, hands in his pockets. The Jasmine Dragon was an older part of town, and the mesh of stone and clay architecture juxtaposed with the newer brick buildings always looked like some sort of movie set to Sokka. As he walked past dark storefront windows, he could imagine his reflection waving back at him and running off into the night. The paper lanterns the city started hanging a few years ago cast a soft glow on the narrow street, and he hummed idly, pausing outside the doors of the Jasmine Dragon. 

The lights in front were out, and the staff had carefully flipped the chairs onto the tables for the night. Zuko appeared to be the only one left. He held a broom in his hands, and appeared focused on sweeping behind the counter. Sokka watched him for a moment through the window. As he watched, Zuko leaned the broom against the counter, bent to pick up a trash bag, and disappeared into the back. 

Zuko tossed the bag into the shared dumpster, turning, he nearly jumped out of his skin. 

“Hey, Lee. Wanna get a drink?” Jet leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. 

“I don’t drink,” Zuko let out a breath, trying not to think about how close he came to incinerating Jet. How long had Jet been there? Why hadn’t he noticed?

“Don’t tell me you want hot leaf juice after making it all day.” 

“Actually, I just want to go home,” Zuko’s voice was firm. He moved back into the teashop. 

Jet followed. “C’mon. Why do you keep blowing me off? You loved that little stunt we pulled a few years ago.” He followed Zuko closely. 

“Years, Jet. I’ve moved on. Why haven’t you?” Zuko turned to face him, and found Jet was far closer than he’d like him to be. Their faces were mere inches apart. Zuko flushed, anger bubbling within him. Jet boxed him in, hands resting on either side of the counter; he leaned in, a small smirk on his lips. “If you think you’re flirting with me, I don’t respond well to threats.” Zuko said flatly. He tried for an acerbic tone, but his heart flip-flopped in his chest like a pancake. 

“So why haven’t you done something about it?” Jet was all bravado. 

“Hey Zuko! Toph wants to know when we’re gonna show up for the party-” Sokka tried to seem nonchalant as he opened the shop door when in reality it took everything in him not to fling the door open. His heart was in his throat, and it was taking most of his self-control not to vault over the countertop and punch Jet’s stupid smirk off his stupid face as he saw the rather compromising position Jet and Zuko were in. 

Zuko looked over his shoulder at Sokka, surprised, and for the briefest moment Sokka saw something that looked like relief in his eyes. Jet backed off as Sokka approached. “See you later, Lee,” He sauntered out the back. The click of the latch was deafening in the ensuing silence. 

Zuko let out a breath, “I don’t know what you saw.” He trailed off, a hand nervously ran up and down an arm. The fabric of his shirt bunched slightly beneath his hand. He could easily have used some bending to scare Jet off, but he hadn’t, and something didn’t sit right with him knowing Sokka had seen him like that. He had no reason to feel this way. Jet wouldn’t actually hurt him, and Zuko didn’t answer to Sokka. His best friend’s voice dragged him from his thoughts. 

“Did he hurt you? I’m gonna-” 

“Going to what, Sokka?” Zuko’s reply came out sharper than intended. 

Sokka cursed himself internally. He opened his mouth and closed it, at a loss for words. He knew Zuko was fully capable of handling Jet, he’d already beaten him in a fight once, but something about the rawness in Zuko’s voice, the tense line in his shoulder, the vulnerability he’d seen just for an instant in Zuko’s eyes before he snapped at him made Sokka want to wrap his arms around Zuko and tell him everything was going to be okay. “Give him a piece of my mind next time I see him.” 

“Your brain cells are worth more than that,” Zuko moved the broom back to the cleaning closet. He untied his apron and hung it carefully on the small rack, willing his heart rate to return to normal. “Do you still want to hang out? We could order in.” 

“Hell yeah,” Sokka lightened at the prospect of food. He didn’t mind spending more time with Zuko on principle, but after seeing Jet come onto him like that, he also didn’t want to leave Zuko alone. It was strange, Sokka had sort of patched things up with Jet after he broke Katara’s trust and tried to flood a small town, but seeing him with Zuko made him want to strangle him all over again.


	4. You're Incredible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka braids Zuko's hair; they share a meal; y'know, like friends do.

“What should we order?” Sokka leaned against the bathroom door, a fistful of takeout menus in hand. He rifled through them, searching for a place they hadn’t ordered from in awhile. Steam slipped out from under the door, it smelled heavily of amber and something a bit sharper, citrus of some sort? Whatever it was, it was clearly the soap that made Zuko smell heavenly. Sokka shook his head, chasing that thought from his mind. 

“What do you feel like?” Zuko’s voice was muffled by the sound of the shower and the bathroom door. 

“I asked you.” 

“You’re the plan guy.” 

Sokka smiled at that, “What about that place June used to live above?” 

“The one where there’s three hot peppers next to each item on the menu?” Zuko’s reply seemed to ask Sokka if his mouth was going to handle ordering from there. He opened the bathroom door. A rush of humid air spilled out. 

“I can order something not fire-breathing-dragon off the menu.” Sokka shrugged, glancing over at Zuko. 

The other man wore a red silk bathrobe, embroidered intricately in swirling patterns that mimicked smoke with thin golden thread, a gift from Uncle Iroh. At first he had refused to wear the robe, something about him owning something so frivolous jarred with the utilitarian life he had been living since his father disowned him. After seeing the sadness in Uncle’s eyes when he discovered Zuko hadn’t been using his gift, Zuko broke down and started wearing it. He had to admit, the silk felt nice. He reveled, quietly, in the simple luxury he afforded himself. 

Zuko held his hair in one hand,a wide-toothed comb in the other. Sokka’s eyes trailed over the pale skin exposed by the robe, mapping the subtle dips and hollows in Zuko’s chest. Zuko ran the comb through the gathered hair, unaware of Sokka’s gaze. Coming across a tangle, Sokka watched in dawning horror as Zuko simply dragged the comb through the knot. 

“Spirits, Zuko what are you doing?” Sokka nearly dropped the takeout menus, wincing at what he just witnessed. 

“Combing my hair?” Zuko didn’t quite understand the shock on Sokka’s face. 

“Are you trying to rip it out?” Sokka followed Zuko as he walked past him and into the main living area of the apartment. 

“It’s fine,” Zuko ran the comb through it again. He’s had long hair for awhile, and these tangles are barely on the scale of what he’s worked out of his hair. 

“My head hurts watching you do that,” Sokka eyed the comb in Zuko’s hand, “Let me do it.” The offer was out of his mouth before he could think about it. 

“No offense Sokka, but your hair is a lot shorter than mine.” 

“Katara has enough hair on her head for three people,” He said, “I used to help her do it when she was little.” Sokka shifted a bit at that admission. It's not that he was ashamed, but more this was something he didn’t talk about a lot. For how freely he talked, he was reticent to talk about his childhood. Many people assumed Sokka was over his trauma because of his attitude, the jokes, but Zuko knew Sokka well enough to realize he just processed things internally. 

Zuko looked at him curiously a moment, then, sensing this was something private Sokka was sharing with him, he offered Sokka the comb. Sokka’s eyebrows raised as he took it, he held the plastic comb like it was made of glass. 

“You’ll want to sit,” Sokka managed, rather surprised Zuko had taken him up on his offer. 

He followed as Zuko took a seat on the couch, turning so Sokka could take a seat behind him. Zuko gathered his hair in a hand and moved it so it all fell down his back. He inadvertently held his breath as he awaited Sokka’s touch. Zuko wasn’t quite sure what he expected, but he had to fight a small shiver as a gentle hand swept his hair off his neck, then slid down to hold the ends of his hair. 

Normally Sokka would ramble on, but he didn’t dare speak right now. Zuko’s hair was glorious, soft and shiny. The scent of his shampoo clung to it. Being able to touch it so freely was akin to a religious experience. With a gentle hand, he worked the tangles out. He started at the ends and moved up in small sections. Once he made it to the top of Zuko’s head, he ran the comb through from top to bottom, combing a bit more than he strictly needed to; Zuko’s hair was just so pretty, cascading like a waterfall down his back. 

“I could braid it, if you’d like,” Sokka said. 

Zuko almost didn’t respond. He felt like he was in a trance. “Yeah, that’s fine,” he whispered. 

Sokka nodded, forgetting Zuko couldn’t see him. He sectioned the hair off and with practiced movements he wound the strands together, leaving it loose enough it wouldn’t pull the hair follicle too much, but it would keep the hair out of Zuko’s face. “Sit tight a second, I gotta get a hair tie.” 

Zuko hummed an acknowledgement, remaining still for a moment. Then, hearing Sokka rummage around the bathroom, he hesitantly pulled the braid over his shoulder, admiring Sokka’s handiwork. Zuko was pretty competent at pulling his hair back into a topknot, but he was at a loss for most styles beyond that. He could tell Sokka was comfortable braiding hair based on the even sections, the carefully woven strands. He idly wondered how often Sokka had done this for Katara. His heart ached a bit at the thought of a young Sokka doing this for Katara, trying so desperately to do something right their mother must have done effortlessly. 

Sokka watched Zuko a moment as he admired the long braid. It was simple, but something about the fact Zuko allowed him to do it made his stomach twist a little. The intimacy of this moment, Zuko, sitting cross-legged on the couch, his bathrobe falling around him in small ripples of fine silk, waiting for him, made Sokka blush a bit. What was he thinking? 

“You like it?” He had to break the silence before Zuko realized he was being watched. 

“It’s nice,” Zuko took the hair tie from Sokka and slipped it around the ends. 

Sokka flopped back on the couch, “Now that you haven’t made yourself go bald, let’s order food.” 

They ate in the kitchen after a brief back and forth as to whether it was more effort to move - Sokka’s point - than it was to clean anything off the couch should it fall, as Zuko maintained. Zuko won, as it was his house, but Sokka refused to sit on the chair in a normal fashion. He leaned back, resting one knee on the edge of the table, stretching out his other leg. 

“Can I ask you something?” Sokka asked when they were nearly done. He set his chopsticks down, picked up his cup. 

Zuko hummed, picking through his box of takeout. 

“You and Jet,” Sokka began hesitantly, “What’s that about?” 

“How so?” 

“I know you’re dense, Zuko, but he’s clearly into you.” 

Zuko flushed, “Just because someone is interested in me does not mean I am interested in them.” 

Sokka didn’t know whether to be elated or crushed by that statement. He stabbed at a piece of meat with a chopstick, a bit moody. His lips pursed slightly as he struggled to think of something to say. 

“I kissed him,” Zuko said eventually. “Years ago, it was heat of the moment, and stupid.” 

“You kissed him?” Sokka put both feet on the ground at that. His jaw dropped. Zuko averted his eyes, hand tightening around the box of takeout. “Sorry, I just- first Katara and now you? What did you see in him?” 

Zuko shifted a bit. He set the carton down, the chopsticks next to it, careful to put them on his napkin. He sighed, “He didn’t care what other people thought of him. He was willing to get his hands dirty for a good cause. He was one of the few people who didn’t know I was-” Zuko paused, “Well, me, and he accepted me. It was nice.” 

Sokka mulled that over a moment, “He made you feel like something beyond the family name.” 

“Yeah.. something like that,” Zuko’s voice was soft, “I guess I was grateful. So I kissed him.” Sokka watched as Zuko drew into himself at those words. It pained him, to see that guarded expression in his presence. 

“We don’t have to talk about this-” 

“It’s fine,” Zuko interrupted him, “I kissed him and we started a physical relationship but what I admired about him became what I didn’t like. He was arrogant and didn’t take no for an answer and kept pushing even when it was futile. He was hard and fast and rough.” 

“Zuko, are you saying-” 

“He’s not a bad person.” 

“Good people can do bad things.” 

“You don’t have to tell me that. But no, I just wanted something different, so I broke it off,” Zuko picked up his glass. 

Sokka followed the motion, “You still care for him.” 

“He’s a good person,” Zuko was vehement. 

“Is he?” Sokka made a face. 

“Everyone deserves a chance to grow, and someone to love them through it,” Zuko set his glass down. “I just couldn’t be that person for Jet.” 

Sokka stared at him a moment. He stared so long Zuko shifted under his gaze, “What.” 

“You’re incredible.” 

It was Zuko’s turn to stare. He barked a laugh, shook his head. 

“I’m serious. Jet is a grade-A asswipe, and you still believe in him,” Sokka shook his head, “You care so much about everyone. It’s something I really admire about you.” 

Zuko’s heart fluttered in his chest, “You’re the same way. You just hide it behind all those jokes.” 

Sokka laughed, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks at those words, at the soft look in Zuko’s eyes as he said that. They weren’t the same in that regard, but it touched him that Zuko thought that highly of him, “Now that we’ve patted ourselves on the back, I should be getting back.” 

“At least stay for dessert.” 

“Dessert?” 

“I have a carton of ice cream.” 

They each enjoyed a bowl in comfortable silence. Sokka helped Zuko gather the dishes afterwards. He hid a smile as Zuko said he would finish them in the morning - usually Zuko was insistent on a clean house. 

“Sokka?” Zuko hesitated as he stood in the entryway, watching as Sokka slipped on his shoes and collected his jacket. Sokka hummed, looking over at him, offering a little smile. “Thank you,” Zuko said softly. 

“You don’t gotta thank me Zuko, s’what friends are for. I’ll see you later, yeah?” 

“Of course.”


	5. I think I need a Hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a face from the past surfaces, Zuko turns to Sokka for help.

“You know you don’t have to spend your day off sitting in the tea shop,” Zuko said as he opened the employee entrance. 

“I’ve got my laptop, gotta get some work done anyway,” Sokka hip-bumped him as he breezed through the back room and into the front. 

Zuko watched him with a rather fond smile. He turned on the ovens, started the coffee pots before beginning the process of brewing tea. He moved out to the counter and turned on the register.

“Need a hand?” Sokka watched Zuko as he moved. 

“Smellerbee and Longshot are in at eight.” 

“Need a leg then?” 

“Sit down, I’ll bring you a muffin when they’re ready.” 

Sokka laughed, securing his usual spot near the window, setting his bag in the chair next to him. He pulled out his laptop and set up his work station: planner Katara had given him, stack of post-it notes, pen, earbuds. He was half-way into an email when he realized a muffin had materialized next to his elbow. Looking back at the counter Zuko seemed engrossed in checking the temperature for the black tea he was brewing. Sokka picked up the muffin, smiled, and took a bite. 

The Jasmine Dragon had been popular from the start, many of Iroh’s customers had moved with him when he left Pao Family Tea. Now, in this trendy part of town, his customer base grew exponentially. There was enough demand for him to open three more stores, but Iroh refused. He liked having one, and the limited availability of the tea made it all the more appealing. However, the lines were never unbearable, and Iroh’s hospitality made up for any wait time. Zuko grew on the customers as well. One elderly woman in particular -- who seemed more interested in Iroh than the tea -- said Zuko had blossomed like a lotus flower. Zuko thought that was a bit much, but Iroh trusted him to run the store when he was out, so clearly he was doing something right. 

The day started off rather slow; The Jasmine Dragon had more traffic at lunch and dinner times, and Zuko was grateful for the lull as it allowed him to get caught up on some accounting. Smellerbee handled the cash register while Longshot filled the orders. 

“Your eyeliner looks really nice today, Smellerbee,” Zuko added a stack of take-out cups to the appropriate holder. 

She smiled. 

“Would you do a sweep?” Zuko asked. Smellerbee nodded and moved off to check the tables. 

He took her place at the register. He had just finished an order when another customer walked through the doors. Zuko looked up.

His greeting died on his lips. He could hear his own pulse pounding in his head as blood rushed through his veins. The man was older, his beard longer, more white in his hair than the iron grey from nearly a decade ago, but it was unmistakably him. 

“Zuko, so good to see you again,” Zhao spread his hands out, a cruel smile pulled at his lips. 

“You- I thought you died?” Zuko’s voice was nearly a whisper. 

“It seems I survived.” 

Zuko’s thoughts were like dry kindling near a fire. The last time he saw Zhao he had been swallowed by an avatar-state-moon-spirit as Zuko was trying to take revenge for Zhao’s earlier attempt on his life. He wanted to ask how. He wanted to ask why he was here, of all places. Instead, a tense: ‘How can I help you?’ tumbled out of his lips. An automatic customer service response. 

Zhao laughed, the sound set Zuko on edge. He knew he was stronger than Zhao, but he didn’t fancy a brawl with a fire bender in his uncle’s shop. 

“As if you could help me.” 

Zuko’s eyes swept over the room as he bit his tongue; customers stared. Longshot was giving Zuko a worried glance. Smellerbee seemed to be contemplating her options, a hot pot of tea in her hands. Sokka’s hands hit the top of the table as he half-rose from his seat. He remembered Zhao. The destruction he had caused, the pain he had wrecked. The former - current? - admiral wasn’t breaking the law - Sokka guessed - but he was sure he could find some excuse for Zhao to be found dead in the middle of a tea shop. He could scald him with tea and stab a pen in his carotid artery-- 

“What do you want, Zhao,” Zuko’s voice was tight. 

“I see you still haven’t learned manners. The day will come when I will teach you some,” Zhao’s tone was threatening. 

“You don’t scare me. I am more powerful than you could ever dream of being.” 

Zhao’s laugh was hard and cruel, “And you think I have given up bending in my absence?” He could never back down from a challenge, especially when Zuko was concerned. 

“Get out of my shop.” 

“Your shop? This is your failure of an uncle’s shop.” 

Zuko’s anger flared, “He is more than twice the man you are.”

“Around?”

Flame sparked at Zuko’s fingertips and Zhao’s smirk grew a little forced. He could rile Zuko all he liked, but he wasn’t sure how far Zuko’s mercy toward him extended. Luckily, he wasn’t alone here. “You wouldn’t dare start a fire in here. Someone could get hurt.” 

“Leave, now,” Zuko’s voice was short and clipped. 

“Not before ordering a cup of this apparently famous tea.” 

Zuko’s eyes widened, but before he could react, Zhao was ordering. “Oolong tea, to go.” 

“Can I get you anything to eat with that?” Zuko didn’t think he had a customer service persona, but in this instant he felt rather detached from his body. He seemed to watch himself pour tea into a recyclable cup and fasten a top over it. 

Zhao’s right eye twitched. “Don’t serve me rubbish.” 

“Have a nice day,” Zuko gritted his teeth. Only the knowledge that Uncle would be disappointed kept him from lighting the cup on fire and burning the admiral’s hand. His heart beat faster as he handed it off. 

“Good boy. Best to follow orders, so much wood in here, things could so easily catch fire,” Zhao took the tea and walked towards the exit. He made eye contact with Sokka, smirked, and then he was gone. 

“Zuko- are you okay?” Sokka rushed to the counter as soon as Zhao left. 

The other man mumbled something inaudible. Zhao had returned. Zuko realized they had never found a body, but he had taken that to mean the admiral had washed out to sea. Why had he come here? To threaten him? The teashop? The thought of the Jasmine Dragon going up in flame made him feel short of breath. A hand went to his head and he swayed a bit. He could hear Uncle’s voice in his head -- breathe Zuko -- as he braced himself on the counter and then Sokka was shouting his name as Zuko crumpled to the ground. Sokka vaulted over the counter, dropping down next to his friend. 

“Zuko? Zuko- can you hear me?” he tapped his head, recalling his first-aid training. Zuko stirred, eyes cracking open. Sokka felt his heart pull itself out of his toes as he breathed a small sigh. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine,” Zuko started to sit up. He seemed surprised when Sokka put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back onto the floor. 

“Zhao showed up and then you fainted.” Seeing Zuko drop was quickly added to the top ten scariest moments of his life, and as the best friend of the avatar, Sokka had seen quite a few of those. “You’re lucky you didn’t hit your head!”

Zuko brushed Sokka’s hand away. “I have a fainting disorder,” he mumbled as he stood.

“You what?” Sokka asked, incredulous. He looked up at Zuko as he rose. How did he not know about this? 

“Long story, I’m fine. I’m more interested in figuring out how the hell Zhao is alive, ” Zuko seemed to realize everyone was staring at him. He flushed, “Free refills. Apologies, everyone” 

Longshot gave him a look, but the few customers went back to their respective cups of tea, though it was clear they were all discussing what just happened.

Smellerbee darted over to the counter, “Hey Zuko, why don’t you go home. Longshot ‘n I can hold down the fort.” 

For a moment it seemed Zuko might argue, but the hand Sokka placed on his shoulder seemed to say he wasn’t going to be able to bluff his way out of this one. “Promise you call if-” 

“We’ve got it. Right Longshot?” 

They received a firm nod. 

“C’mon I’m taking you home,” Sokka ushered Zuko into the kitchen. 

“You left your laptop,” Zuko said. 

“Oh- shit- hang on-” Sokka hurried back for it. “Are you sure I shouldn’t take you to this hospital?” Sokka asked as he reentered, trying, and failing, to hide his concern. 

“Yes. Leaving is frankly ridiculous-” 

“You fainted! Like actually fainted-” 

“I have a disorder!” 

“You gonna tell me about that, or-?” Sokka threw his arms up. Normally it’d be a sign of exasperation, but right now he seemed more bewildered than anything. 

“It’s not relevant,” Zuko started his explanation over as he saw Sokka’s expression, “It’s only happened a few times. Last time was when I decided to-” he hesitated “turn my back on my father.” 

“So it’s a rare thing.” 

“Yes. I think,” Zuko fished for the right words, shook his head. 

Sokka prompted him, “You think?”

“Zhao’s threat to burn down Uncle’s tea shop. It got to me. It’s so stupid. I’m so stupid; I can hear Uncle’s voice, ‘buildings can be rebuilt Zuko,’” his impressions were as poor as ever, “but the thought of having to tell him. Of someone getting hurt. Zhao never had regard for life outside his own.” 

“Spirits, Zuko,” Sokka took Zuko’s hand, squeezed gently. 

Zuko looked at their joined hands, a lump formed in his throat. He told himself he couldn’t cry; he was too proud for that. He had almost reeled his emotions back in check when Sokka spoke.   
“Too much?” He seemed worried he crossed a boundary. The last thing he wanted was to make Zuko uncomfortable. 

“I-I think I need a hug.” 

Sokka met Zuko’s eyes and saw the tears in them. Whether they were brought on by fear or anger or something else he didn’t know. All he knew is his friend needed him. He reeled Zuko in; one hand rested at the nape of Zuko’s neck as he buried his face in Sokka’s shoulder, the other wrapped loosely around his middle. He could feel the pressure from Zuko’s fingers as they curled slightly, grasping at Sokka’s shirt as small tremors shook his body. 

“I’ve got you,” Sokka said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments! I appreciate them so much. 
> 
> Couple notes: 
> 
> 1) since this is turning into a multi-chapter fic, the original summary is a little misleading. I'm going to go through and edit the chapter summaries and tags a bit. 
> 
> 2) I looked up fainting disorders and consulted with my friend who has one, so I promise there's a little basis for Zuko -- plus, I feel canonically, he did quite literally make himself sick when he turned his back on his father, so... 
> 
> 3) I needed some more employees for the Jasmine Dragon, and I lowkey love the idea of Smellerbee and Longshot leading a little resistance but they need a day job?? Also they're two of my favorite side characters. 
> 
> Alright, enough of my rambling. Hope you enjoyed the update!


	6. Why Didn't you Use the Door?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blue Spirit (briefly) returns. 
> 
> Sokka and Zuko have a little heart-to-heart. 
> 
> Zuko spends the night.

For hours Sokka laid, sprawled out on the couch and stared unseeingly up at the ceiling. One arm was wrapped loosely around the stuffed shark Toph had bought him as a joke years ago, the other hung off the sofa, fingers brushing the hardwood floor. He couldn’t stop thinking about Zuko -- the way he had folded completely into his arms, the soft hitch of his breath as he stubbornly fought tears, the exhausted look in his eye as he told Sokka he could go home, that he would rest. 

Sokka was so free with his affection, known for pulling people into hugs, resting an arm on a shoulder, taking a hand, he couldn’t fathom a world where etiquette and structure dictated any such affection would be improper. The world Zuko had grown up in. Sokka hadn’t realized quite how ingrained that idea was in Zuko was until he felt the need to ask for a hug of all things. Maybe that was why he had freaked out so much when they fell asleep together on the couch. Sokka had worried it made his attraction to Zuko blatantly apparent -- he was so lucky Zuko was about the densest man ever when it came to liking someone -- but maybe it was the impropriety that offended Zuko. Sokka groaned. He was thinking himself in circles. 

The air conditioning unit hummed, cycling for the perhaps the first time in several hours. It masked the faint groan of the window opening, the swish of the thin curtain being brushed aside, and a soft scrape of a shoe against the floor. 

Sokka screamed as a blue mask appeared suddenly in his line of vision. 

“Sokka!” the blue spirit hissed, clapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Zuko?” Sokka’s voice was garbled through the hand. 

“Who else?” Zuko removed the mask in a fluid motion and moved back once it seemed Sokka wasn’t going to alert everyone in the building by shrieking bloody murder. 

“Why didn’t you use the door?!” Sokka sat up, flinging the stuffed shark at Zuko who caught it - much to Sokka’s annoyance. 

“I wanted to make sure I wasn’t followed.” Zuko set the shark down on the coffee table. 

“So you pulled out your fuckin’ alter ego from when you were 16?” 

“You wish you were as cool as the Blue Spirit.” 

Sokka pouted. Zuko was right. He wished he had thought to take to the streets as a spirit of ambiguous morals and been wanted in several nations for high-risk crimes. Alas, he had been busy babysitting the Avatar, or saving the world. Usually both. 

“So why are you climbing through my window?” 

“I wasn’t sure if I would be followed,” Zuko took a seat on an empty chair. He glanced at Sokka’s fish tank where a particularly aggressive red beta was swimming in and out of some fake plants. He looked back at Sokka. “I need your help tracking down Zhao.” 

“Of course I’ll help,” Sokka was emphatic, but he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his gut. The last time he went up against Zhao, his girlfriend turned into the moon. He wasn’t about to lose Zuko, or anyone else, to him. 

“Sokka.” 

Sokka looked rather embarrassed. It took him a moment to meet Zuko’s eyes. He picked at a loose thread in the cuff of his sweatshirt sleeve. Zuko’s gaze had no right to be that intense and Sokka looked away again. 

“Talk to me.” 

Sokka felt the couch cushion dip down a bit as Zuko sat down next to him. 

“Remember how I told you my first girlfriend turned into the moon?” 

Zuko nodded, remembering rather vividly his completely inept response to that. 

“Well it’s because Zhao tried to kill the moon spirit,” Sokka wrapped his arms loosely around himself. He had mostly come to terms with Yue being the moon, but that didn’t mean he still didn’t miss her, or blame himself for what happened. 

“And Aang bridged himself with La, to try and save Tui,” Zuko put the pieces together. Sokka didn’t like to talk about what happened at the North Pole much, and Zuko would have felt wrong going to anyone else, so he knew what happened in the sparsest details. 

“I was supposed to protect her. Her father asked me to protect her. I promised, and--” Sokka’s nails dug into his arm, his leg bounced a bit, “I failed.” 

“Sokka,” Zuko sat forward, “You know that wasn’t your fault.” 

Sokka’s expression was miserable as he looked over at Zuko. Maybe he wasn’t as over it as he thought. 

“Zhao was a power-obsessed freak. There’s nothing you could have done to stop him,” Zuko meant to soothe Sokka, but instead it seems he struck a nerve. 

“If I was a bender I could have stopped him.” Sokka abruptly stood. He walked over to the window and stared out at the street below, arms crossed. 

“That’s not fair yourself and you know it,” Zuko was vehement, “The avatar had to go into the avatar state to stop him, even then it seems he’s somehow alive.” 

“Then what makes you think I could stop him now? If the all-powerful avatar couldn’t stop him, what could I do,” Sokka asked bitterly. 

“Because you know what you’re up against. You’re smarter than he is, you’re more clever,” Zuko went on, he reached out, laying a hand on Sokka’s shoulder. His heart panged as Sokka turned slightly to look back at him, “And you have something he’ll never have, which is a good heart.” 

“Flatterer,” Sokka mumbled, feeling some of the tightness in his chest loosen. 

“It’s not flattery if it’s true, Sokka,” Zuko was adamant, “I trust you.” 

Sokka felt warmth blossom in his chest. It was hard to continue feeling angry at himself with Zuko talking to him like this, “Alright, I’ll help you take down Zhao.” 

Zuko’s smile made his heart ache. 

They spent the rest of the evening doing what they could to find out more about Zhao. Sokka placed some calls to his contacts, while Zuko used his access to Fire Nation government documents to begin looking for information on the presumed-dead Admiral. He was hesitant to pull anything for fear of it putting a flag in the system, but as a cursory glance, it seemed no one else was aware of Zhao’s return. Take out containers and empty glasses piled up around them on the table as they worked. Eventually, Sokka pushed back from the table and rubbed his tired eyes. 

“Enough for one night, I’m gonna go cross-eyed.” 

Zuko nodded, he stretched and stood, saying he’d see Sokka in the morning. 

Sokka paused. “I don’t think you should be alone tonight.” When Zuko looked confused he went on, “We don’t know what Zhao’s plan is, or where he might be. It wouldn’t be exactly hard to trace your location.” 

Zuko thought about this a moment. “He could also go after you.” 

“Unlikely, but we’re both safer if we’re in each other’s company,” Sokka tried to rationalize this, tamping down the feeling that he was scared to lose Zuko and wanted him here to protect him. 

“I didn’t bring clothes or anything.” Zuko didn’t sound opposed per se. He did want to be able to keep an eye on Sokka, fearing he might try and go after Zhao himself. 

“You can borrow some of mine.” 

Zuko shrugged, seemingly okay with that. 

Sokka went to grab something for Zuko to change into. They were roughly the same size, Sokka mused as he poked around the organized chaos of his room. True, Zuko had a couple inches on him, and Sokka was broader in the shoulders, but Sokka was looking for pajamas, not a suit, so he wasn’t too concerned. He pulled a clean t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from his closet. 

Going back to the kitchen, Sokka discovered Zuko had not only cleaned up the takeout, but was doing the dishes. It looked rather odd to see Zuko dressed in a fitted black turtleneck and dark pants, his hair carefully swept back, looking more spectral than human, doing something so mundane like sorting silverware. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I was going to just throw out the takeout, and got carried away,” Zuko turned back to him. He dried off his hands and accepted the clothes Sokka offered. “Is all you own blue?” Zuko looked down at the navy blue sweatpants and slate blue t-shirt. Sokka made a mock-affronted sound, but Zuko just smiled and ducked into the bathroom to change. 

“So do you have an extra blanket I can borrow?” Zuko asked Sokka as he emerged, clothes carefully folded. 

Sokka looked up from his laptop. Despite his insistence they give it up for the night, he was checking messages. He looked up, “I figured we could share the bed.” He somehow managed to keep the fact Zuko looked adorable in blue to himself. The sweatpants were slightly cropped on Zuko’s long legs, the shirt the faintest bit looser, masking some of his lean build, but the grey in the shirt made Zuko’s eyes look like golden embers. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Zuko asked, remembering what happened last time they had fallen asleep together. Admittedly, waking up in Sokka’s arms made him feel a little bit like he was dying, which Uncle told him was something called “having a crush.” Zuko hadn’t finished that conversation as Uncle started asking too many questions and Zuko hung up, but apparently the way he felt around Sokka wasn’t actually going to give him a heart attack. He was pulled from his brooding by Sokka’s voice. 

“I mean, it's a queen-sized, but if you’re more comfortable out here--” Sokka tried to play it cool, but he couldn’t help wondering if the idea of them waking up next to each other was truly so awful to Zuko? 

“No, it’s fine. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?” Zuko laughed nervously. 

Sokka stared at him a moment, “Okay, I know you’re joking, but you really, really, really, have to work on your delivery.” 

Zuko giggled, “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, just loosen up,” Sokka laughed. He slipped past Zuko to move into his room, hiding the smile on his face. 

Zuko shifted, rolling over. Sokka had fallen asleep a few minutes before, but Zuko was too tense to fall asleep. Propping his head on an arm, he watched Sokka a moment, eyes tracing over his splayed hair, the curve of his brow, the way his lips parted slightly as he slept. He watched Sokka’s chest rise and fall slowly with deep even breaths, before his eyes traced over the slender but well-defined muscle in Sokka’s arms. He reached over, pulled up the blankets a bit. His fingers trailed ever so lightly across Sokka’s chest as he drew back. He must have drifted off, but the last image on his mind was Sokka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments!! I enjoy reading them so much <3


	7. You Wouldn't Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko sends Suki on an important mission. 
> 
> Sokka thinks Zuko works too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning is a bit expository, so if you want the Pining(TM) I'd skip to about halfway down. :)

Faint sounds of conversation and music drifted out of closed doors and open windows. People strolled at leisurely paces down the street. It had taken time, but the night life of the Fire Nation capital was slowly emerging. Before his coronation, Zuko knew of secret parties, small gatherings of resistance, but it had taken months of rolling back curfews and restrictions for bars to keep their doors open, plazas to host gatherings under lantern light, and theaters to advertise night shows. Many of Zuko’s advisors disapproved of him giving the people so much freedom so fast, but Zuko was coming to understand his father ruled not with the respect his people gave him, but with the fear he imposed. 

As Zuko walked, hair down, a ball cap pulled low to obscure his scar, he couldn’t help but smile at the sounds of people -- his people -- enjoying themselves. As he passed by a movie theater, he noticed a popular drama from the Earth Kingdom was playing. He paused a moment, looking at the posters in the glass display cases. 

Though it was taking time for the general population to come around to the idea that life was still worth living outside the Fire Nation, removing the internet and media restrictions allowed a new wealth of information to be reached by the people. One of the small changes had been the inclusion of other nations’ films and television programs on Fire Nation networks. 

There was still a long ways to go, he mused, as he walked past a former military guard post, standing like an ominous sentry in the night. 

He glanced around surreptitiously before ducking down an alley. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes a moment. Zuko felt a slight rush of air as Suki gracefully dropped down from the fire escape above him. 

“What’s with the late-night meeting?” She adjusted the hood covering her hair. Her white face-paint made her face, especially her eyes, seem brighter in the dim light from the moon. 

Hiring the Kyoshi warriors as the Firelord’s personal guard had been an act of goodwill with the Earth Kingdom, a sign the Fire Nation was going to work with the besieged kingdom as they handed over control and discussed reparations. It didn’t hurt that Zuko felt the Kyoshi warriors were the most elite fighting force he had ever encountered, and they had already prevented several attempts on his life. He trusted Suki. 

“I need you to do something. Unofficially.” 

Suki looked at him curiously. Ever since his coronation Zuko had insisted on transparency, even to the point of painfulness. “What is it?” 

“Admiral Zhao is alive. I need you to track him down; discover his plans.”

Suki’s eyes widened at the news. She knew from Sokka, and working for the Firelord how dangerous Zhao was, and any news of him at all she considered to be bad. “On it.” 

“You should take backup,” Zuko let out a breath, “Zhao is-” 

“Zuko.” 

He paused, a bit chagrined, “I know you can handle yourself but he’s dangerous.” His worry for Suki outweighed the knowledge she could flatten him, especially with her new chi-blocking ability. 

“After I escort you to the palace I can brief Ty Lee.” 

This seemed to satisfy him. He nodded. 

Since imminent war with the other nations had ceased to be an immediate threat, Zuko had turned his attention to dismantling first his great-grandfather, then his grandfathers, and his father’s rules and decrees. Some of them were simple, others required a team of advisors, and even then he found himself often calling on Aang, who gave terrible political advice, but always managed to sandwich in a kernel of wisdom. Wading through the archives, trying to find remnants of fire nation culture before the war while balancing the needs of his contemporary people was exhausting, and the stacks of papers on his desk grew and grew. 

Dressed in his formal attire from an earlier meeting with the delegations from the northern and southern water tribes, he shifted in his seat, shuffling through a stack of papers on his desk. Although he’d never admit it to uncle, his computer played a soft medley of traditional and contemporary tsungi horn music. While he had approximately zero interest in learning the instrument, Zuko found it helped him focus. 

“Hey jerk-lord, you gonna take a break sometime this century?” Sokka sauntered into Zuko’s office like it was his. He frowned when Zuko didn’t acknowledge him. Sokka watched Zuko as he pensively paged through what looked to be a three-hundred page document. Sokka saw his expression turn rather pained, a palm rubbing at his nearly-blind left eye. He didn’t talk about it much, but Sokka knew it still pained him occasionally, and it didn’t help Zuko kept pushing himself past the brink of exhaustion. 

“Zuko!” Sokka tried again, picking up a stack of papers and holding them out of reach. 

Zuko looked up. “Sokka?” He seemed confused. It wasn’t unusual to see Sokka in the palace, he was the Southern Water Tribe ambassador after all, and they were friends beyond that, but he shouldn’t have been able to walk through the family wing of the palace and into his private office without hindrance. 

“The one and only. Unless that couple really did name their baby after me-” 

“You shouldn’t bere here.” Zuko was blunt. 

Sokka gasped, a hand going to his chest, “You wound me, sir.” 

“I’m serious. Normally I wouldn’t care but I have a meeting in-” Zuko glanced at the clock on his laptop, “15 minutes.” 

“What? It’s ten o’clock at night,” Sokka protested. 

“I’m running a country--” Zuko paused mid-rant as he heard footsteps approaching. 

Sokka looked at him with wide-eyes. 

“--Hurry,” Zuko gestured. 

Sokka didn’t have time to protest as he scurried over to where Zuko sat. He wondered what Zuko was going to do, and why it was so important he not be here, when suddenly Zuko’s hands were on him and he was pushing back from his desk in his seat and shoving Sokka under it. 

“Zuko!” Sokka squeaked as Zuko rolled his chair forward and his legs returned to their spot underneath the desk, boxing Sokka in. Zuko kicked him lightly to get him to shut up. It wasn’t a moment too soon as there was a polite knock on the doorframe before whoever Zuko was meeting with entered. 

“Ah, general, thank you for bringing this matter to my attention.”

Sokka watched as Zuko half rose, bowing slightly. As he sat down again Sokka hurriedly tried to lean back as he realized just how close his face was to Zuko’s crotch. It wasn’t much better. 

He shifted so he was sitting sideways, trying to tune out the conversation happening above him; it was done easier than said, as no matter which way Sokka wiggled, if anyone saw them, it would look extremely suspect. The thought made a little heat pool in the depths of his stomach and Sokka was sure his flush was visible even on his dark skin. He told himself now was so not the time as one of Zuko’s thighs pressed against the back of his head. Sokka glanced up. Zuko seemed entirely focused on his meeting with the general, and made no effort to move his legs. 

Sokka wondered what it might take to distract Zuko. The conversation going on above him seemed serious -- something about pulling troops back from various bases around the countries. Zuko was adamant they cut the size of the military, his general pushed back the other kingdoms might look for revenge if they pulled back too quickly. Sokka was eye-level with Zuko’s thighs, the urge to run a hand lightly up one to mess with Zuko was growing. He jammed his hands under his armpits, trying to distract himself from that thought. It was difficult to do with Zuko so close. 

“Thank you for meeting so late. I await your next report.” 

Zuko stood, a clear dismissal to the general who thanked the Firelord and exited. As the general’s footsteps faded down the hall, Zuko stepped back a bit, and offered a hand to Sokka who took it, and avoided Zuko’s eyes as he stood. 

“This is why you should call me instead of showing up unannounced.” 

Any lingering desire to mess with Zuko disappeared as indignation took over, “You unceremoniously shoved me under your desk! This is why I’m the plan guy. My back hurts now,” Sokka said as he twisted a little, something popping faintly as he did so. 

“If you’re expecting an apology, you’re not getting one.” 

“C’mon jerk-lord, you’re calling it a night.” 

“Do I get a say in this?” Zuko laughed. 

“No,” Sokka said, though a grin tugged at his lips. 

“What if I refuse?” 

“What part of ‘you don’t get a say’ do you not understand? If you refuse-” Sokka tilted his head in thought, “I’ll dump that pitcher of water on you and carry you out of here.” He gestured to the pitcher. 

“You’ll do no such thing,” Zuko said primly, crossing his arms. He regarded Sokka with a truly haughty expression. He yelped as Sokka rushed him, dropping a shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist before hoisting him up into the air, holding Zuko firmly to him. 

“Sokka!” Zuko wiggled uselessly, partially overcome by embarrassment. He couldn’t bear to think of what would happen if someone saw them. His hair tumbled out of the loose bun he had pulled it into; it fell past his shoulders and covered his face. He sputtered. 

“Never underestimate me. It’ll be your downfall,” Sokka said cheerfully as he walked out of the office and down the hall. 

“This is so undignified-” Zuko protested, bracing his hands on the small of Sokka’s back so he wasn’t hanging quite so uselessly from his shoulder. He dared peak through the curtain of hair down the hall. It was rather late, the guards on the night shift were under the assumption Suki had patrol of this part of the palace, so it was unlikely they’d be disturbed, but the thought of getting caught like this made his cheeks flush. Though a nagging little voice in the back of his head asked him if the flush was a result of Sokka manhandling him, the warm arm around his waist. Zuko didn’t think he was the type who wanted to be swept off his feet. He wasn’t. His argument was rather null as Sokka effortlessly shifted him higher on his shoulder. 

“Consider this payback for cramming me under a desk.” 

Then they were at Zuko’s room and Sokka leaned over to set him down. His hands lingered on Zuko’s narrow waist, not wanting to part just yet. As Sokka moved him, Zuko’s hands slid up Sokka’s back and down Sokka’s chest, resting at the curve of his shoulders. They were mere inches apart; a few strands of Zuko’s long hair still clung to Sokka’s shoulder. Zuko’s lips parted slightly. Sokka’s eyes were drawn to the motion. Not for the first time he wondered what kissing those lips would be like. Zuko felt his heart skip a beat as Sokka kept his hands on him. They hadn’t been this close since they woke up on the couch together. Even sharing Sokka’s bed, he had been vigilant about not straying closer to the other man. Now, however, the air between them felt charged. His golden gaze met Sokka’s ocean blue. He was on the verge of leaning in when Sokka spoke. 

“Well, m’lord, I should be getting back to my room,” Sokka pulled back, dusted off his hands as if to say ‘my work here is done’ and stepped back. 

“Don’t get caught,” Zuko’s heart was in his throat. 

“Your concern is touching,” Sokka smiled easily and walked off. The man had the nerve to whistle.


	8. Glory to the Phoenix King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka muses on when exactly he fell in love with Zuko. 
> 
> The Southern Water Tribe Ambassador and the Firelord attend a party. It wouldn't be an evening out if there wasn't an assassination attempt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know the tension was pretty high in the last chapter. So.. .fair warning in this one? 
> 
> TW: past child abuse, violence

Sokka could pinpoint the exact moment he became friends with Zuko: when Zuko helped him break Suki and his father out of the highest security prison in the Fire Nation. In hindsight, Sokka had sometimes wondered if it was the fear of getting caught that made Zuko trust him on that mission, but he ruled that possibility out a long time ago. They worked together too well for that to be the case. Zuko really had trusted him. He supposed it was warranted after Sokka foiled his plans to capture the avatar for the better half of a year. Sokka knew how to make a plan.

He’s not quite sure when their friendship, which had only grown from that day on, turned into something more for Sokka. It had been little things at first, Sokka mused as he brushed through his hair and scooped some styling product out of a little dish. The way Zuko laughed at his jokes like he thought they were actually funny, the little smile he’d give when he thought no one was watching, the way he showed how much he loved his uncle by trying to learn to brew tea correctly for him. Each of these little acts humanized the prince so much more than his awkward and stumbling apology - though that in itself had been rather endearing. This guy, who could barely get an introduction right, is the one who had been chasing them all this time? 

Sokka ran his fingers through his hair, carefully sectioning small pieces off to create small braids that would frame his wolf-tail. All those things were relatively tame. Hell, Aang adored Zuko for his love of animals, and Toph liked that Zuko was one of the few people who always texted her with text-to-speech in mind. Maybe that was it, the surprising amount of thoughtfulness Zuko possessed for someone who could be so brash and impatient and often angry. Sokka’s thoughts spiraled as he frowned, hunting through the container of hair ties to find one that matched his hair color; he needed to look put-together tonight. 

Hair done, Sokka exited the bathroom and went into his room to take his suit out of the dry-cleaning bag. He laid the suit coat on the bed, dressing slowly, he had plenty of time thanks to his schedule. His thoughts again, as they often did, drifted back to Zuko. When had he fallen in love with him? The answer was eluding him and that bugged him. Maybe if he could name it, he could get over it. As he picked up his suit coat, off the side of the bed Zuko had slept on some time ago, it hit him like a badger-mole tunneling through a mountain. 

It was during Zuko’s first month as Firelord, and he was overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of everything he needed to fix. Sokka had found him snowed under in papers at his desk, and close to tears. ‘There’s just so much,’ Zuko had whispered. Sokka didn’t quite remember what he had said, but Zuko agreed to let Sokka help. Taking a stack of papers and sprawling out on the couch, he made it through several iterations of a new law before he cranked out a final draft, and offered it to Zuko to sign. Sokka remembered watching with baited breath as Zuko read through it, and then signed without hesitation. ‘You’re sure you don’t want to change anything?’ Sokka had asked in bewilderment. Zuko had shaken his head, saying he supported what Sokka had written; he trusted him. 

His trust. Zuko’s trust. His faith in Sokka. The way he gave control to Sokka, trusting him with things as simple as finding a place to eat or as important as a non-aggression pact between their two nations, then followed them without question. The way he backed Sokka up when others doubted him. The amount of advisors he had politely insulted by taking Sokka’s side over theirs in meetings, or telling Katara to ease up when she was getting on her brother's case too much, even though she still scared him, the way he let Sokka see parts of him no one else ever had, the tears, the tiredness, the desire to be touched and loved. Maybe that was Zuko’s way of saying he returned Sokka’s feelings. Tui and La, Sokka was an idiot, he dressed in a hurry. He had to get to the party. 

Sokka knew Zuko wasn’t one for pomp and ceremony. The birthday party of the Earth Kingdom Ambassador was probably the last place the Firelord wanted to be tonight, especially with Zhao on the loose. Truth be told, Sokka would rather be somewhere else, preferably with Zuko, but there was free food, and watching Zuko get increasingly impatient with the thinly-veiled civility from certain diplomats and the fawning from others was extremely amusing. From his spot near the banquet table laid out with food that cost more to buy and prepare than an entire year’s rent, he could see most of the room. He had promised Suki he’d keep an eye on Zuko tonight. Not that it was difficult, the suit Zuko was wearing made it difficult to keep his eyes off him. 

It was tailored perfectly to fit his long legs and accented his slim waist. Dark burgundy, the subtle sheen of the fabric faintly reflected the dim lights. His long hair was carefully swept back and up, held in place by an expensive looking hairpin. 

Sokka wasn’t the only one who noticed Zuko looked good. He watched as a young diplomat moved over to Zuko, approaching him from his left side. He winced as she tried to talk to him and then realized he could barely see or hear her and then moved so they stood face to face. Strike one. While it was safe to say most people knew the firelord had a scar on his face, it wasn’t common knowledge his vision and hearing were impaired from it. 

Sokka remembered how derisively Zuko had scoffed when he had first asked him about it. ‘Fire is destruction. You think my father cared enough only to mark me?’ Those words made Sokka’s blood run cold. While he hadn’t really been friends with Zuko at the time, he made a point to always stand or sit on Zuko’s right side, where he could see him. Now, whenever Sokka approached him from the left, he would tap Zuko’s forearm twice, something Zukko knew he appreciated. 

“Firelord Zuko, might I steal a moment of your time?” The young woman smiled from beneath her long eyelashes at him. She bowed. Zuko looked rather uncomfortable as she stood closer to him than was was considered socially acceptable. 

“Of course,” Zuko eyed her, trying to place her face. 

Sokka could sense where this was going. Time for a rescue. “Ah, Zuko, I was hoping to talk to you about a possible expansion of tourism between the Fire Nation and Southern Water Tribe, I have this plan-” Sokka gestured mildly as he walked up, completely ignoring the young woman who frowned. 

He hid a smile as Zuko turned slightly to focus on him, giving a rather relieved expression. As Sokka prattled on about the intricacies of penguin sledding, he was rather surprised the diplomat hadn’t left. Instead, her patient smile made Sokka pause. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” Sokka said. Maybe it was Suki’s mandate he should watch the firelord, or maybe it was his protectiveness of Zuko, but he didn’t trust this woman. 

She smiled politely, opened her mouth to speak. 

Sokka saw her arm move subtly. He had fought Mai enough times to realize when a hidden blade was about to be drawn. He was already moving in front of Zuko when the thin knife appeared in the woman’s hand. 

Placing himself in front of Zuko, arms spread wide to prevent him from knocking Sokka out of the way, he was utterly defenseless as she whispered “glory to the Phoenix King,” and stabbed him. Sokka expected it to be like the movies, but instead he felt his breath leave him in a quiet rush, he stumbled back, vaguely aware of Zuko’s arms around him as he sank to the ground, pain blossoming in his side. 

“Sokka!” Zuko screamed his name, but his voice sounded like it was coming from an ocean away. 

He felt the intense heat as flames leapt mere inches from his face, fire leaping from Zuko’s outstretched hand and circling the would-be assassin in a ring of fire as guards rushed forward to subdue her. Sokka hardly noticed as she, cursing Zuko’s name, was led out of the now quiet banquet hall. He was barely aware of Zuko’s hand on his face, of his head in Zuko’s lap. 

“Sokka? Sokka stay with me- you idiot-” Zuko tapped the side of his face, trying to keep him conscious. His eyes were full of fear. 

“Don’t be scared,” Sokka whispered, a weak grin spreading across his lips. 

“Someone call an ambulance!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos!! 
> 
> (( Don't worry about Sokka, I promise I'm going to fix this ))


	9. You got stabbed, and you're asking me if I'm okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Sokka is rushed to the hospital, Zuko is left alone with his thoughts. He realizes he can't lose Sokka, and it might be time to tell him so. 
> 
> TW: language

Sokka needed surgery, on top of stitches. The knife, while thin, had cut deeply into Sokka’s stomach, and the head of surgery tried to explain to Zuko he couldn’t assure him with any degree of certainty Sokka would live until they got a sense of the damage. Even the calm and rational doctor took a step back as Zuko breathed fire at that response. The fire swirled around gently in the air, and dissipated without issue. Not at any one, and it wasn’t entirely his intention, but knowing his friend was on that operating table because of Zuko made his entire body feel tense. His thoughts spiraled out of control as every worst-case scenario was presented to him on a golden platter. He breathed again, sparking, but no flame caught. His eyes fixed on the head doctor as everyone around him was frozen in equal parts fear and awe. 

“You will save him.” 

“Sir, there’s only so much medicine can do!” The doctor squeaked. Dealing with distraught loved ones was part of the job, but not many seemed to be a dragon masquerading in human form. 

“I have faith in your abilities.” 

There was no disappointing the Firelord after that. Zuko insisted on being updated on every step of the process, and it became clear that while the knife had cut deep, it wasn’t poisoned, and was mercifully sharp. It was a, the surgeon begged Zuko’s forgiveness, clean-cut job. Zuko wished Sokka were awake to appreciate the pun. The surgeon seemed to think Sokka would make a full recovery. 

Though it was irregular, Zuko had Sokka moved to a private room. With guards posted outside the door, Zuko paced the length of the room as he waited for Sokka to wake up. The last few moments before Sokka collapsed played on repeat in his mind. Sokka standing close, the way he instantly put Zuko behind him, arms outstretched - had his shoulders always been that broad?- the weight of Sokka’s head in his lap as he cradled him, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, the feel of Sokka’s blood on his hand as he pressed desperately against the wound, the puff of the oxygen as the mask delivered air to Sokka’s lungs, the way his warm brown skin seemed unnaturally pale against the stark sheets. . . Zuko stopped his pacing and looked at Sokka. 

“Why the fuck did you do that?” he whispered, “You didn’t need to play hero. Not for me.” 

Sokka remained asleep. 

Zuko walked over to the hospital bed and sat in the plastic chair that creaked and groaned before settling. He folded his hands in his lap, fingers grasping at the fabric of his pants. His body hummed with nervous energy. He moved his hands to the arms of the chair, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm. He watched Sokka for any sign of consciousness, but Sokka’s vibrant blue eyes remained closed. Zuko needed to be closer. He reached out, laying a hand over one of Sokka’s, reassuring himself Sokka was in fact just sleeping, and not dead.His thumb brushed lightly across the smooth skin. A few tears slipped down his cheek. 

“Please wake up,” he mumbled. 

There was more on his mind than the fact Sokka was injured because of him, and Toph was going to kill him for letting it happen if Katara didn’t do it first. The thought of losing Sokka had shaken him to his very core, and nudged a piece of him loose he thought he had buried deep under the layers of self-loathing and doubt.

He was completely, inextricably, and irrevocably in love with Sokka. 

Zuko hadn’t meant for it to happen. He realized it some time ago, and been trying to hide it ever since. Though it made their friendship feel dishonest in Zuko’s eyes; he told Sokka everything, how could he keep this from him? He had known long before he fell asleep on Sokka, before Sokka held him up as Zhao threatened to make his world come crashing down, certainly before Sokka stupidly took a knife for him. 

It felt silly, knowing in all the earth-shattering, cosmic, world-ending moments of their friendship that the moment Zuko knew he loved Sokka was incredible mundane. It was something so small, so completely insignificant in the grand scheme of moments and memories of their friendship, there’s no way he would ever divulge the full memory. 

It was shortly after his coronation, the night of in fact. He had escaped the celebration and sought refuge in the palace gardens, sitting on the bench in front of the turtle-duck pond. The real name of the pond was some grandiose line of poetry written by a great ancestor, but it was where the turtle-ducks nested and so it was turtle-duck pond to Zuko. He watched a pair of adult turtle-ducks lazily circle one another in the still, clear water of the pond.   
He had been so confident earlier, believing he could restore honor to his nation, make things right, but now, as the weight of his task settled onto his shoulders, he was starting to doubt himself. 

“There you are! Dude, Aang and Katara are putting everyone else to shame on the dance floor and you’re missing it!” Sokka waved to him from a short distance down the path, his cheeks flushed from dancing and the heat. 

“I’ll be right there. Go enjoy yourself,” Zuko had tried to deflect, but Sokka hadn’t fallen for it. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Zuko felt Sokka’s eyes on him, though Zuko was focused on the turtle-ducks. One of them had laid its head on the other’s back, allowing the other to guide them around the pond. “Am I doing the right thing?” 

“What do you mean?” Sokka took a seat next to him on the bench. 

Zuko looked over at him, “Becoming Firelord. Ushering the world into a new era? How pretentious,” he laughed bitterly, “How presumptuous of me.” 

Sokka was a practical joker. He like making people laugh, easing the tension when it had settled in a room, but despite his penchant for the ridiculous, he was remarkably steady and sensitive to other’s emotions, and when he regarded Zuko with those intelligent blue eyes, Zuko knew a joke wasn’t coming. 

“You once told me in not so many words, that we often have to fail to do better, and keep going even in the face of adversity. And you will fail, Zuko, but you’ll get back up again, like you always have, and you always will. And when you fall, Aang, Toph, Katara, and I, we’ll be there to catch you. Sure you’re the Firelord now, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have friends. I know Aang needs to go do his avatar thing, and Katara’s probably going to follow him, but you’ll at least have me, Zuko. I’m not going anywhere,” Sokka smiled softly. He patted Zuko’s knee a couple times, then stood. “See you back at the party.” 

As Zuko watched him disappear back inside and it was then he knew, without question; he was in love with Sokka. 

As soon as Zuko figured that particular inconvenient detail out, he buried it deep down inside himself. Zuko didn’t need to mess up their friendship, and Sokka didn’t need the stress of knowing something he could probably never return. 

Tonight, nearly losing Sokka had torn down the wall around that part of himself that Zuko had constructed. Zuko’s hand tightened slightly around Sokka’s, “I can’t lose you,” he confessed, voice raw. 

Zuko didn’t know if Sokka could hear him. Frankly, he didn’t care at this moment, it felt like someone had cut off his connection to the outside world and all the little thoughts that occupied space in his head were silenced as he focused solely on Sokka. He felt warmth blossom in his chest and he felt as though he did when he first learned his connection to bending didn’t have to come from anger, but could come from life and warmth. The heat would keep building until he let it out and he felt as though fire raced through his veins as “I love you, Sokka,” spilled out of him. 

Zuko flushed deeply. 

Sokka remained blissfully unaware. 

Zuko bowed his head, clasping Sokka’s hand with his. He let out a ragged breath, closing his eyes. He felt cool, tired. He hadn’t realized he had drifted off until his head bobbed and he sat up hurriedly, blinking blearily to clear the sleep from his eyes. A hand went to his eye, rubbing sleep from it. He looked over and realized Sokka was awake. 

“Sokka!” 

“Hey sleeping beauty,” Sokka smiled softly, shifting his hand so their fingers were linked, instead of Zuko’s just resting on his. He was touched Zuko had stayed by his side. 

Zuko stared at him a moment, thoughts and emotions swirled through his mind in a complicated mess, and for the moment, anger, red and hot won out. “Don’t ever do that again!” he sat up in his seat. Ignoring the fact they were holding hands. 

Sokka stared at him in silence a moment, “Are you mad at me?” His voice was incredulous. 

“Yes!” 

“You’re mad at me, for taking a knife, for you,” Sokka reasoned through it, laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it. 

Zuko felt the tears prick his eyes. He hated that he was angry, hated that he wanted to cry, hated the look of dawning horror on Sokka’s face. He took his hand back, brushing tears away. 

You’re crying?” Sokka seemed lost, “Zuko, come here.” He held out his arms. 

Zuko looked at him. When Sokka insistently kept his arms out, he moved forward and sat on the edge of the hospital bed, unsure of what Sokka wanted. He hiccuped wetly as Sokka grabbed his arms and pulled him into a hug. He tried to be mindful of Sokka’s wound, but Zuko didn’t have much control as Sokka wrapped his arms around him and tucked Zuko’s head under his chin, letting him rest in the hollow there. 

“Spirits, Zuko, I didn’t think you’d be so upset,” Sokka smoothed back some of Zuko’s hair. His fingers trailed softly down Zuko’s face; he cupped his cheek, moved back so he could tilt Zuko’s head up slightly. His gaze was soft. Sokka’s thumb swept across Zuko’s cheek, brushing away a tear. 

Zuko’s eyes closed a moment as he took a shuddering breath, “I’m sorry, I just can’t lose you. I don’t think I could survive that.” 

He felt Sokka’s hand still. He squeezed his eyes shut, certain Sokka would push him away. When no movement came he took in another uncertain breath. What was happening?

“Zuko, look at me,” Sokka breathed. 

Amber eyes tentatively opened, meeting Sokka’s gaze, like a deep ocean current, Zuko felt like that gaze was pulling him out to sea. He held Sokka like he was a lifeline. 

Zuko felt time slow to a crawl as Sokka smiled at him, then leaned forward, pressing their lips together. The kiss was soft and sweet, and all-encompassing. Zuko felt like he was drowning, but was able to breathe for the first time. Sokka’s lips were soft;he tasted still of bitter wine from the party. Though the sterile antiseptic clung to Sokka, his cool cologne mingled with it. Zuko felt heat spread from his chest to his stomach, and it was like something that had always meant to be finally came to pass. When they parted Zuko found himself missing Sokka’s touch. 

“I probably should have asked, sorry,” Sokka whispered, voice tight. 

Zuko noticed a faint flush on Sokka’s cheeks. Zuko moved a hand to his lips in surprise; Sokka had actually kissed him. He struggled to process. Sokka had actually kissed him. Zuko felt like the sun had risen. He surged forward, kissing him again. 

Sokka’s surprise was muffled against Zuko’s lips, he wrapped an arm around Zuko. He felt for the hairpin, and pulled it out, making a satisfied sound as Zuko’s hair tumbled loose. He wrapped a hand in the strands, holding Zuko in place as they kissed. 

“Tui and La, I’ve wanted this for so long,” Sokka breathed when they parted. He pressed their foreheads together. 

Zuko met Sokka’s eyes, he trembled slightly in Sokka’s arms. 

“Are you alright?” Sokka cupped Zuko’s face with his hands, eyes sweeping over his features. 

Zuko gave a watery laugh, “You got stabbed, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” 

“Of course?” Sokka replied it like it was silly of Zuko for asking. 

“I’m more than okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and kudos!! 
> 
> They finally, FINALLY, kissed.


	10. Whatever you say, turtle-duck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka gives Zuko a nick-name. Zuko retaliates with one that makes Sokka's heart sing.
> 
> Suki imparts some troubling news.

“Can I change your contact to ‘babe’?” Sokka asked idly, scrolling through his phone. He looked over at Zuko when he didn’t immediately respond. Sprawled out on the couch, Sokka’s legs were in Zuko’s lap, the other man’s laptop balanced on his shins. He seemed occupied typing something, so Sokka waited until Zuko was done, then asked again. Zuko hummed, seeming to indicate he didn’t care. 

“Zuko,” Sokka nudged him with a leg, knocking the laptop a bit off balance. 

“What?” Zuko caught it, looking over at Sokka. 

“I said can I change your contact to ‘babe.’” 

Zuko flushed scarlet. Sokka grinned, there’s the reaction he was looking for. 

“If you want to. Though I don’t know if I’m,” Zuko paused, “babe material.” It felt ridiculous saying that. He focused on his laptop. He needed to finish this email. 

“On the contrary,” Sokka grinned, his eyes sweeping over Zuko, who looked casual in a fitted-sweater and dark jeans. He hummed appreciatively, “Though, I agree, I need a better pet name for you.” 

“Is that entirely necessary?” Zuko looked over at him. Though he didn’t have a whole lot of examples to go off of, pet names seemed like they were unnecessary. 

“Yes,” Sokka sat up, he winced, then gingerly leaned back against the arm of the couch. Letting out a breath, he paused a moment before he gathered himself, “Let’s see, baby?” he suggested.

Zuko seemed more concerned with Sokka’s reaction, setting his laptop aside and reaching a hand towards him in worry; Sokka waved him off, so he was still a little sore from getting stabbed. He’ll live. Zuko frowned, watching him. 

“Darling?” Sokka asked. Zuko looked at him with an expression somewhere between exasperation and fondness. A blush tinted his cheeks. He chose not to respond, grabbing his laptop. He hid a smile as Sokka rattled through a list, “honey, angel, pumpkin, baby penguin-” 

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.” 

“Sweetheart?” 

There. Zuko’s eyelashes fluttered, his lips pressed together. A tell-tale sign of him trying to hide something. Sokka beamed. “Sweetheart.” 

“I’m not listening to you,” Zuko’s stomach flipped, maybe he could handle a pet name if Sokka was the one saying it, but he wasn’t about to admit it. He felt pretty ambivalent about most pet names, but something about sweetheart made his head spin. 

“Sweetheart,” Sokka was delighted. He watched Zuko squirm. “Sweetheart,” Sokka sang as he leaned forward, ignoring the twinge in his side and cupping Zuko’s cheek with a hand. 

Zuko looked at him shyly. It was definitely the way Sokka said it, soft, a little awed, and so tender. 

“You like that one, don’t you,” Sokka smiled. 

“It’s idiotic, and old-fashioned,” Zuko protested, trying to preserve some of his dignity. 

“Just like you,” Sokka kissed his cheek and then released him. He sat back and changed Zuko’s contact, smiling a little to himself as he added a heart emoji next to the fire one. 

“Whatever you say, turtle-duck,” Zuko hid a smile. 

Sokka squawked. He silently wondered how long Zuko had been holding onto that one. If he just come up with it, that was so not fair. 

“Do you not like it? I think it suits you.” 

“How am I like a turtle-duck?” Sokka didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended. 

“You like the water, your hair is soft, you’re fiercely protective of your family,” Zuko ticked off his reasons on his fingers, “And you’re my favorite.” He finished with a little smile. 

Sokka flushed. He was supposed to be the suave one,“Okay, sweetheart.” 

He watched as Zuko smiled softly as he continued working on his laptop, responding to the torrent of emails that had piled up while he insisted on spending time with Sokka in the hospital. Sokka was touched, he knew Zuko felt guilty for what happened to him, though Sokka felt pretty confident in saying he’d do it again. He’d survived once now, hadn’t he? He’d also be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the attention Zuko was heaping on him as a result. Usually, Sokka felt better as the giver of affection than the receiver of it, but it felt kind of nice to have Zuko fuss over him a bit. 

Sokka was pretty pleased he got a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal, though Zuko had seemed absolutely mortified when he joked about it. Zuko maintained they’d have gotten together eventually if Sokka hadn’t been stabbed, but Sokka was pretty sure they’d have needed a nudge of some sort. Either way, he still felt a little thrilled at the things he could now do: hold Zuko’s hand, play with his hair, call him sweetheart, Sokka was living for the affection he could now show without fear of scaring Zuko off. 

“I need to make a call, turtle-duck,” Zuko gently moved Sokka’s legs. He put his laptop aside and stood, exiting the room. Sokka watched him go, missing his warmth. 

Zuko returned a bit later, movements languid and heavy as he took a seat on the couch. “They interrogated the assassin. She refused to give up her employer, but based on her response it seems a large sect of people is still loyal to my father,” Zuko scrubbed a hand over his face. 

“We knew that, but they haven’t tried anything since the coronation,” Sokka’s brow furrowed in thought, “You said they were disorganized, posed no real threat.” 

“Something’s changed,” Zuko’s voice was dry and rough, like he wanted to shout, but lacked the energy. 

Sokka moved so he was sitting next to Zuko, winding his arms around him and holding him close, feeling the tension in Zuko lesson only slightly at his touch. He was quiet as he thought. It was no secret some people resented the radical changes Zuko brought, and was bringing to the Fire Nation, but it was pretty damn ballsy to go after the Firelord himself. It sounded something like Zhao might do. He opened his mouth to speak. 

Zuko’s phone rang, “It’s Suki.” He looked at the ID before answering, putting it on speaker phone, “Report.” 

Sokka drew his arms back, but remained sitting close, their thighs pressed together. 

“I’ve tracked down Zhao. Zuko, it’s not good. If you’re in the palace, you need to get out. He’s gathered a group of dissenters and they’re making plans to burn down the palace-” Suki sounded harried. Sokka could picture her bright eyes flashing with warning, the subtle frown of her full lips that always gave her up when she was worried or stressed. 

“The palace has survived being burned before,” Zuko’s voice was far too mild for having just received news of this caliber. 

“Zuko. There’s already been one attempt on your life this week, let’s not make it two.” Faint sounds of scuffling came from Suki’s side of the call. 

“Suki? What’s going on?” Sokka asked, sitting forward although Zuko was holding the phone in his hand. 

“Ty Lee and I are on a train, we’re going to do what we can to mess up their supplies. Zhao’s got a mini-army,” Suki replied. A loud thumping sound followed shortly after. Ty Lee giggled and said something suspiciously along the lines of “whoopsie-daisy.” 

“Do what you can and get back to the palace.” 

“Zuko! I am telling you explicitly as your head of security that you need to get out of there and to a safe location.” 

“I will not run from Zhao.” 

“Sokka- please talk him out of this-” Suki’s voice broke off momentarily as she passed through a dead zone. 

Sokka looked over at Zuko, noticed the determined set of his jaw and a dangerous looking glint in his eyes, “I don’t think there’s any talking him out of this one, Suki, but I’ll do what I can to make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.” 

“Stay safe.” Zuko hung up. He glanced at Sokka, quirked his eyebrow. 

“You do know it’s a colossally bad idea to not pull out while we can? There will be fighting in the streets, people could get hurt,” Sokka tried to persuade Zuko, who, despite his tiredness, seemed unfazed. It was a little unsettling if Sokka was being entirely honest. 

“Not if I fight him.” 

“Zuko, no,” Sokka said emphatically, grabbing Zuko’s shoulders and holding tight, trying to snap him out of it. 

“I’ve beaten him once before.” 

“Yeah, and then he tried to kill you twice- three times now after that!” 

“He won’t get another chance.” 

“I appreciate the theatrics, but Zuko, you’re literally giving him another chance to kill you,” Sokka shook his shoulders slightly. 

Zuko put his hands around Sokka’s forearms, meeting his gaze. A dark intensity burned deep in his eyes and his hands almost felt hot to the touch. Sokka felt his heart skip a beat. 

“What are you planning?

“We know he’s coming. We will have time to prepare, and when he arrives. I will challenge him to an Agni Kai and I will win.” 

“What about his followers?” Sokka shook his head. Usually he admired Zuko’s single-minded determination, but right now it made him seem fool-hardy. 

“I’m sure a clever man like you, and my talented personal guard are more than capable of devising a way to disarm them without too much of a struggle.” 

Sokka tried not to preen at that praise, this was serious. He was quiet a moment as he thought. This wasn’t going to be easy, but it might just work.


	11. You've been over the plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Zhao face off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: violence

“Are you sure about this?” Sokka asked for perhaps the sixty-third time since Zuko had talked them all into confronting Zhao at the building Suki and Ty Lee had tracked him to. Sokka had gathered Zuko’s hair high on his head, and as he looked at Zuko through the mirror, he pulled the hair tie from its place on his wrist. 

“It’s a little late now,” Zuko met Sokka’s eyes in the mirror. 

“This is only plan A, I have A through H ready to go, I might need some time, but J is just a variant of E-” 

“Sokka,” Zuko laughed, reaching back, his fingers briefly brushed Sokka’s wrist before his hand dropped again, “This will work.” 

Sokka wrapped the hair tie around Zuko’s hair twice. He grabbed another to form the ponytail into a bun. Zuko’s hair was sleek and thick, Sokka half thought the hair wouldn’t stay, so he grabbed a few bobby pins and stuck them in. 

“Try that,” he watched rather worriedly as Zuko tilted his head from side to side. 

“Feels good,” Zuko stood, turning around to face Sokka. He saw the worry in Sokka’s face, a faint crease in his forehead, a tired set to his jaw. He looked so much like his father in that moment; Zuko cupped Sokka’s cheeks with his hands, leaning forward and pressing their foreheads together. “I’ve fought Zhao before, and I’m far stronger now than the first time we faced off.” 

Sokka scoffed, “Didn’t he try to kill you directly after?” 

“That’s why you’ve been over the plan,” Zuko pressed a kiss to Sokka’s forehead.

“The sun is setting soon, we better move,” Sokka felt a tightness in his chest. It felt good, rather than restrictive, his nerves before battle. His reflexes were lightning sharp; he was hyper-aware of their surroundings. In this state he knew if his injury flared up he’d be able to fight despite it. He was surprised Zuko hadn’t put up more of a fuss about him coming; Sokka thought Zuko understood his need to be there and see this through. 

The plan was simple. Ty Lee and Suki had tracked Zhao’s army of rag-tag Ozai supporters to an empty military warehouse on the edge of the city. Zuko would cause a disruption and enter through the front door. With his distraction, Sokka and the Kyoshi Warriors would cover the other entrances so no one could escape. Transports, and a small company of soldiers would wait at the cross streets to move in to take care of the rebels. Zuko would challenge Zhao to an Agni Kai, and once Zuko won, Ty Lee would chi block him for transport to a high security prison. 

Zuko wanted to hand him over to the Northern Water Tribe, though Suki suspected the Earth Kingdom might have something to say about that. Regardless, the plan would work. All Zuko had to do was best Zhao in singular combat, something he had done as a teenager. 

Though they had been over it a million times, Sokka still found himself worrying about Zuko.  
“Sweetheart-” Sokka stopped himself from asking, again, if Zuko was sure about this. He looked away, a little embarrassed. He normally had no qualms about something like this. He was the one people turned to. He was the rock. He had earned the mark of the wise. So why was his wisdom failing him when it came to Zuko? 

Zuko didn’t respond verbally, but Sokka saw him reach, out of the corner of his eye, and felt Zuko’s pinky finger curl around his. That small gesture made Sokka’s heart sumersault. Tui and La he had it bad for this man. 

The ride to the edge of town was quiet. Though Zuko had kept up his bending, it had been awhile since he had fought someone of Zhao’s skill. Though he had beaten him before, Zuko knew defeating Zhao would not be as easy as he kept assuring Sokka it would be. He breathed deeply, Uncle’s lessons still echoing in his mind. Start with the basics. The basics are what set you apart from the rest. 

Sokka looked over at Zuko. He had his eyes closed, blunt lashes cast soft shadows on his cheeks as the car moved through the late afternoon sun. He breathed slowly, deeply; Sokka could tell he was centering himself for the coming fight. Though they sat on opposite sides of the car, Sokka could feel the air around Zuko grow hot. Sokka looked out the window, watching as their driver expertly navigated them through traffic. 

“We’re here,” Their Kyoshi Warrior driver said softly, parking them on a quiet side street. They’d need to split up and walk a couple blocks to avoid detection. 

Zuko’s eyes opened. He nodded. They exited the car, Sokka’s and Zuko’s eyes met over the top of the car. 

“Wait-” Sokka ran over to him, hands fisting in the front of Zuko’s shirt and pulling him into a kiss. “For luck,” he breathed. 

Zuko smiled softly, his hand cupped Sokka’s cheek, thumb sweeping softly across Sokka’s cheekbone as his eyes stared into Sokka’s. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He separated and slipped into the shadows of a nearby alley. 

Suki and sokka met at their rendezvous point. 

“He’ll be fine,” Suki tried to assure him. 

“What do you mean-” 

“You keep clenching your jaw. Zuko knows what he’s doing,” Suki sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as she was Sokka. 

“Let’s just get into position,” Sokka brushed past her, fingers trailing across her arm a moment in a silent ‘thanks’ as he rounded the back of the warehouse to the back doors. 

They wouldn’t have long to wait. 

Zuko stood in front of the wrought-iron doors. Should be simple enough to get through. He followed the familiar motions, Uncle’s words still echoing in his head: ground your back foot Zuko, your bending is nothing without a strong base, now, bring your front foot up. Zuko swept his arms through the air in a fluid motion, flame gathering in a ball at his fingertips, he held it a moment, feeding heat and power into it before he thrusted his arms forward, the flame releasing and shooting through the gate like a candle flame through paper. The fireball struck the doors behind it, spreading quickly before dissipating against the brick. 

Aang once commented Zuko’s bending now looked more like a water-bender than a fire-bender. The thought briefly entered Zuko’s mind as he brought his arms up and around, fire sweeping in a wide arc as his hands moved forward and aimed at the door, long flames blasting easily through what was supposed to be a military-grade door. 

Zuko hadn’t been able to explain the change in his bending for awhile. Now, he recognized how his father and his ancestors had corrupted the original form, changed it into the harsh military style that was still prevalent today. Zuko’s training under the dragons had allowed him to access the origins of the form. Fire wasn’t only destruction, it was light and warmth. Just as water could heal and sow life, fire provided the heat to do so. It only made sense Zuko’s movements would grow similar to Katara’s. The cries of alarm as the steel doors melted drew Zuko out of his thoughts. Good, he had their attention. 

Walking calmly through the melting remnants of the large double-doors, the embers of his entrance made his eyes flicker gold like a cat’s in the night. He was heedless of the rebels who tried to run for the doors, overcome with fear now the full wrath of the Firelord had been unleashed on them. A few attempted to attack him, but were quickly dissuaded by the Kyoshi Warriors who easily caught them. 

“Zhao!” Zuko called, voice rising above the din, “I know you’re here. Face me.” 

“You were foolish to come. Arrogant as ever,” Zhao’s voice came from behind him. 

Zuko felt the heat on his back before he saw the light from the flame, turning, his body flowed with energy as he effortlessly pushed Zhao’s flame aside and it dissipated. He noticed with a small amount of satisfaction that Zhao’s posture belied the worry at Zuko’s easy counter of his attack. 

“I challenge you to an Agni Kai,” Zuko cut to the chase. 

“No.”

Zuko hid his surprise. This wasn’t right. Zhao never backed down from a challenge. “Why not?” Maybe he could keep Zhao talking, figure out what was going on. 

Zhao laughed, walking until they were a few steps apart, “Because I have more important things to do.” 

“You were without honor then, and you are without honor now,” Zuko said coldly, he watched as Sokka made a beeline for the former sentry station Zhao had seemed to have converted into an office. 

“You’re too late!” Zhao jumped, still spry in his old age, slamming his feet into the ground and shooting flame at Sokka. 

Zuko leapt up, twisting his body mid air, flame sparking from his foot and arcing over Zhao, cutting Zhao’s flame off before it could reach him. Sokka gave a harried thumbs up and darted into to the office. If he could get to Zhao’s computer, he could figure out what was going on. 

“Fight me you coward,” Zuko taunted Zhao. 

Zhao shook his head, smirked. “You’ve already lost. You just don’t know it.” 

“Your pathetic assassination attempt failed, your soldiers have been captured, and your base infiltrated. If you won’t fight me, then you will surrender,” Zuko’s voice allowed no room for argument. 

Zhao’s eye twitched, “I am not pathetic.” 

Of course he focused on that. Zuko wasted no time, “You’re the shadow of an already insignificant man. You never amounted to anything, and now, you never will. I on the other hand, am Firelord. My people love me. They sing songs in my name and erect statutes in my honor.” Zuko hated bragging about his status. While he did enjoy several of the perks of being Firelord, he felt there were far better uses of money than making statues. His words however, met their intended purpose. 

Zhao erupted, “I accept your challenge, and when you fail I will rip that crown from your head!” 

“You mean the one I’m not wearing? I don’t need gold to prove my worth.” 

Zhao ripped off his shirt, tossing it aside. He was fit, even in his old age, and Zuko knew hard muscle lurked beneath the sallow and age-spotted skin. 

Zuko quickly stripped his shirt. 

Sokka looked up from the computer he was trying to hack into, eyes focusing on Zuko. His heart ached at the sight of the angry red scar on his stomach that stretched roughly from diaphragm to navel; a scar Zuko had received attempting to redirect lightning away from Katara. Sokka hoped tonight’s battle wouldn’t leave Zuko with another mark. His track record coming away from an Agni Kai unscathed wasn’t too good. Sokka watched as the two men followed the beginning steps of the Agni Kai, he kept his gaze on Zhao before briefly sweeping to the edges of the room where the Kyoshi Warriors were preparing Zhao’s rag-tag group for transport. Seems Zhao hadn’t been able to find anyone of any real threat. Zuko’s shout startled Sokka from his thoughts and he watched as his boyfriend jump into the air, fire leaping from his outstretched fingertips. 

Zhao was still a powerful bender, his attacks short and fierce, but he had no care for control. Stray bursts of flame lit parts of the structure, even his own supplies, on fire. Zuko realized, as he clapped his hands together, parting the jet of flame Zhao sent at him, that Zhao’s fighting hadn’t changed since the last time they fought. His stance was terrible. There. He saw Zhao’s foot shift slightly. 

His next attack was deflected, so Zuko moved on the defensive, searching for an opening. Sweat broke out on his forehead as a wall of fire enveloped him, he jumped, managing to use a spurt of flame to escape the ring and land a few feet away. 

His escape surprised Zhao, Zuko saw the moment’s hesitation in his next attack and pressed forward, kicking his leg high and around, flame sparking and pushing forward. Zhao stumbled back.

Zhao watched in dawning horror as Zuko advanced effortlessly through his attacks. This wasn’t like the last time they had fought. Zuko’s form had changed, it was more fluid, graceful even, as he danced around the fire. On more than one occasion he swept Zhao’s flame around him before sending it back with three times the force Zhao had mustered. It wasn’t right- Azula was the fire-bending prodigy, not this disgraced exile - it made Zhao’s blood boil. He was near blind with rage. He screamed a promise of Zuko’s demise, punching forward - 

There. Zuko smirked. He ducked, dropping down, rolling and sweeping Zhao’s legs from under him. The old man hit the floor, gasping as the air left his lungs. Zuko stood over him, hands raised as if he were going to end this by marking Zhao. 

“What are you waiting for,” Zhao coughed, “Haven’t you learned-” 

“Now!” Zuko shouted. 

Ty Lee tumbled forward, closing the distance in three successive flips. Her movements fast and precise as she struck Zhao. She ignored Zhao’s cries of indignation, and subsequent demands to know what she had done to him. 

“Finally!” She grinned, straightening, “Good work, Zuko.” 

Zuko regarded her with a fond smile. It fell quickly as he remember Zhao’s threat, “Sokka, find anything?” 

“It was all a bluff. It’s finished,” Sokka flipped through all the information he could find on Zhao’s computer. “I need more time, but I think any plan he might have had, you just derailed.” 

Zuko nodded, surveying the wreckage. He wanted to be proud, but all he could think was: what next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a lot of moving parts and pieces to this chapter, when I read it, it made sense, but if anyone's confused leave a comment and I'm happy to clarify!! 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos!!! <3


	12. They could Sleep together.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka and Zuko take advantage of some well-earned downtime.

“We haven’t had a movie night in ages,” Sokka said as he shifted the pan he was popping popcorn in. 

Zuko hummed, “It’s been a few weeks at least.” He hunted through the fridge for drinks. He found a soda for Sokka and smiled, straightening. 

“I’ve got this sweetheart, go pick out a movie,” Sokka smiled, shifting the lid on the pot. 

Zuko kissed Sokka’s cheek on his way to the couch. He was scrolling through a list of movies when Sokka reappeared with a popcorn bowl and plopped down on the couch next to Zuko. As he sat, a few pieces of popcorn fell out of the bowl. Zuko regarded Sokka with a wry look, picked up a piece of errant popcorn, and tossed it at him. 

“Hey!” Sokka dropped his jaw and bobbed his head like a goldfish searching for fish-flakes as he caught the piece in his mouth. “Don’t waste the popcorn.” 

Zuko laughed, picking a few pieces from the bowl and popping them in his mouth. He settled back against the couch, letting Sokka wrap an arm around his shoulders. Sokka balanced the popcorn bowl in his lap. 

“You pick, I can’t decide,” Zuko handed Sokka the remote. 

Sokka hummed, shifting as he scrolled through various lists. 

“One of these days you’re going to tip the bowl over and then you’re going to cry,” Zuko chided as he plucked the bowl off Sokka’s lap and transferred it to his own. 

“Will not. I have impeccable coordination,” Sokka sat back, flipping through their list of to-watch movies. “You also handed me the remote.” 

Zuko bit back his reply, instead, opting to steal a sip of Sokka’s soda. Sokka’s elbow nudged his ribs and Zuko gave an uncharacteristic giggle. He clapped a hand over his mouth in dismay. 

“What do you want to-” Sokka paused mid-question, “Was that a giggle?” he raised an eyebrow, whatever Zuko wanted to call it, Sokka wanted to hear it again. Pitched high, and in Zuko’s raspy voice that was possibly the most adorable sound he had ever heard. 

“No,” Zuko’s emphatic protest was all the encouragement Sokka needed to press forward, tossing the remote aside and lunging for Zuko. 

“Sokka!” Zuko yelped, holding the bowl of popcorn between them as a defense. 

Sokka calmly took the bowl and set it on the table. He looked over at Zuko and grinned, grabbing his wrist as the Firelord protested and tried to get away, clever fingers attacking Zuko’s sides. Zuko tried to fight him off but it was half-hearted at best. Laughter soon took his breath away and he dissolved into a puddle of breathy giggles. Sokka let go of Zuko’s wrist and tickled him with both hands, laughing as Zuko writhed beneath him, his head tipped back, one leg hooked around Sokka’s waist, a hand braced on Sokka’s shoulder. 

“Spirits, Sokka, please-” Zuko gasped. 

“How did I not know you were ticklish?” 

“I’m not.” 

Sokka’s eyes rolled so far back Zuko wondered if they’d ever return. He poked Zuko in the side, and when he squirmed Sokka grinned triumphantly. “Sweetheart, I’m not going to tell anyone, but it’s adorable.” 

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me,” Zuko faked being grumpy. He shoved Sokka’s shoulder lightly. 

“Sweetheart,” Sokka sang softly, taking Zuko’s hand and linking their fingers. He kept his gaze firmly on Zuko’s face, not wanting to cross a boundary, but as he watched him, Zuko gave no indication of being uncomfortable. Sokka leaned down and kissed him. 

Zuko hummed happily, eyes fluttering shut. He ran a hand against the shaved side of Sokka’s head, slipping up into the longer strands pulled back in Sokka’s wolf-tail. He located the hair tie and pulled it out, burying his fingers in the soft strands of Sokka’s hair. “You should leave your hair down more often,” he mumbled. 

“You like it?” Sokka pressed a kiss to the corner of Zuko’s jaw. 

“It’s beautiful,” Zuko ran his hand through it reverentially, blunt nails scraping lightly against Sokka’s scalp. 

Sokka moaned softly, teeth grazing the soft skin of Zuko’s neck as continued to trail a line of kisses from Zuko’s mouth down his neck. Zuko was warm and pliant beneath him, arching his back slightly in an attempt to get closer. “Spirits, sweetheart-” Sokka slid a hand down Zuko’s chest. 

They both jumped as loud theme-music started playing. 

Sokka looked at the tv, then at Zuko, a question in his eyes. 

“Movie?” Zuko suggested, “Don’t want the popcorn to go to waste.” He smiled softly. 

Sokka hummed, sitting up as they detangled themselves from one another. “What do you want to watch?” 

“Something light?” Zuko admitted after a moment. 

“Works for me,” Sokka chose a rom-com Aang had recommended awhile back. Tossing the remote on the table as the opening credits played, he moved closer to Zuko, wrapping an arm around him. 

Zuko leaned his head back against the couch. He was quiet a moment, “move-” he said softly, pushing Sokka back against the arm of couch. Sokka looked at him quizzically. He felt heat rise in his cheeks as Zuko put a knee between his legs and leaned in. He bit back a clever quip about watching the movie, though his heart-rate spiked at Zuko’s actions. Zuko pressed a soft kiss to Sokka’s lips before he shifted and leaned back against Sokka’s chest, settling between Sokka’s legs.

Sokka wrapped his arms around Zuko. He pressed a kiss to the top of Zuko’s head, breathing in the smoky scent that clung to him. He wasn’t really paying attention to the movie, though Zuko seemed enraptured by the meet-cute plot. He trailed the fingers of one hand lightly up and down Zuko’s arm. Sokka shifted his arm, resting a hand over Zuko’s heart. The quiet rhythm was hypnotic. 

Sokka couldn’t have felt more content in this moment. They had foiled Zhao’s plot, disbanded a group of Ozai supporters, and now they had managed to steal a few precious hours for themselves. He knew the fragile peace wouldn’t last, but he would take this while he could. 

Sokka’s eyelids felt heavy. He opened them with great effort a few times, but ultimately Zuko’s quiet and warm presence, and the gentle cadence of the movie speech and soundtrack lulled him to sleep. 

Zuko had a weakness for romantic movies. He would only say so if pressed, but he liked the simplicity of them. Two people meet, they fall in love, they fall apart, but ultimately they come together. He liked that. He also liked how the characters would say exactly what was on their minds. Zuko had never been good with words. They never seemed to come out of him in the way he wanted to. He was bad at accepting affection. However, in spite of, or despite all that, Sokka still liked him. 

Speaking of, he was a little surprised Sokka hadn’t commented on the contrived plot. There was no way Sokka was staying quiet for Zuko’s benefit. 

He glanced back at Sokka. His eyes softened as he noticed Sokka had fallen asleep. He brushed a few strands of hair out of Sokka’s face, noticing he still must cut it himself, as the ends were horribly uneven. He leaned up, pressing a kiss to Sokka’s jaw before settling down again. He wouldn’t wake him when the movie was over. They could sleep together. 

"Goodnight, turtle-duck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Thank you all for reading, and commenting, and leaving kudos, it warms my heart! 
> 
> I'll go back and edit this for some continuity at some point, but for now, I have a college AU for these dorks in the works. Stay tuned! 
> 
> Thank You!! <3


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